DARR 2: Love without Fear
by Straggletag
Summary: Sunil uproots an unhappy Kiran and takes her to America. When a familiar face plunges her back into her nightmare, can the stranger responsible pull her out? and is it memories, or reality, that fill her with dread everytime a phone rings?
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

…...

The day their plane touched down on American soil was the first rainy day of many. Sunil had been injured during a routine rescue operation and now, because he walked with a limp, he could no longer do what he once had. Sunil, who had once seemed so indestructible to her, now was as human as any man.

He had been offered a well-paying job in New York, by an old school friend named Aryan Kapur. Kiran hadn't wanted to leave India, or her brother, but Sunil had insisted. It was just the thing, he had said, that would cure his sense of listlessness, and their little daughter, Priya, might grow up to attend Yale or Harvard.

"Can we go to Disneyworld?" Priya had asked, her large eyes bright with infectious enthusiasm. So excited had she been, clutching her Minnie Mouse doll, that Kiran had been swept up with her and had finally agreed.

That had been two months ago. Now they lived in a comfortable house in the suburbs, near to the Kapur family, and it rained all the time.

….

"I don't want to go to school!" Priya cried petulantly, stamping her five year old feet and pouting.

Kiran sighed and tightened the pink scrunchie in her daughter's hair, "Why not?" she asked, showing Priya the sweets she had packed in her lunchbox.

"They make fun of me," she answered, "because I talk funny."

Kiran bent to her daughter's level an stared her firmly in the eye, "You do not talk funny," she wagged her finger, "you talk just like me, and if they tease you then just remember to be proud of where you come from…and tell the teacher," she added the last part as an afterthought.

"Can't we go home?" Priya sighed.

"This is our home now," outside, past the white curtains blowing in the breeze from the half open window, grey clouds multiplied over their street. Kiran wiped the back of her hand, slightly floury from baking parathas since the early morning, against her forehead.

Sunil appeared suddenly from the study, dressed in his suit and carrying a black briefcase. He picked Priya up, wrinkling her uniform, and kissed her soundly on the nose.

"Ready to go?" he asked, twirling her around.

"Sunil…" Kiran was about to tell him of their daughter's complaints, but Priya interrupted her.

"Ready Papa!" she squealed, all troubles forgotten in his arms.

Sunil laughed and set her down. Turning to his wife he kissed her briefly on the cheek and then checked his watch. "I'll be late tonight," he said, "Mrs Kapur will bring Priya home. Now remember, if the phone rings…don't panic! I doubt the dead get good service, especially all the way from India," he smiled, amused at his own joke.

Then, with Priya trailing faithfully out to his car, he was gone.

Kiran sank down onto a kitchen chair and put her head in her hands. For days, sometimes weeks, she would be able to forget the voice that once tormented her. But Sunil, always Sunil, insisted on reminding her. Would she never find peace, even oceans away?

….

By mid-afternoon she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the bathroom floor. She had already cleaned the shower, clogged with Sunil's hair, and put away Priya's toys and books. The smell of the bleach was making her eyes water and even the radio, which was playing Bollywood hits of the 80's and beyond, failed to make her chores the slightest bit pleasurable.

As she attacked a stubborn stain, the telephone in the master bedroom rang. It's shrill noise made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, the same way it always did. A phobia, that's what her bhaiyya had called it, she had a phobia of phones. It sounded silly, even as she listened to it ring. If she were to pick it up it would probably be Sunil, or a telemarketer.

She set down her sponge and, still armed in her yellow rubber gloves, made her way slowly across the hall. She picked it up on the last ring and spoke nervously into the receiver.

"Hello?"

"Kiran?"

It was Sunil.

"Kiran I'll be home on time after all. Aryan and some others are coming over to watch the cricket. Prepare some food. Rhea (he meant Mrs Kapur) can come over and help if you'd like?"

Kiran winced. She disliked that bossy, nosy woman. "No," she said, "I can do it myself."

He hung up.

…..

She took the bus down to the nearest local Indian supermarket, a list of needed items tucked into her bag. The bus windows were steamed up, so she amused herself by smiling at a little baby which was peering at her over it's mother's shoulder. It blinked at her and stretched out a chubby hand, entranced by the fake flowers at the end of her braid.

When she arrived at her stop it gurgled a goodbye.

The supermarket was busy. After she had filled her basket she lingered a long while by the spices, just breathing them in, and letting her mind drift. Two gaudily dressed aunties stood near her, discussing (in loud and disapproving tones) the outrageousness of modern youth.

Kiran straightened her posture and subconsciously wondered if her plain sari met with their approval. Of course, she remembered with a frown, she was no longer a teenager to be disapproved of. She was a woman, and a mother, now.

A dark, square-palmed, hand reached across her to scoop some chilli powder. "Excuse me," a voice said. Kiran apologised, flustered, and turned to leave. But, tripping over her own feet, she bumped into the man who had spoken. The chilli powder, not yet transferred to the bag, spilled across her chest like a sudden slash of blood.

"_Oh!_" she gasped.

"I'm sorry," the man said.

She looked up and the world around them disappeared. There was nothing but her loud breathing, the pounding of her heart and _his_ face: those long-lashed eyes, those fierce black eyebrows, that nose, those lips. It burned into her and she screamed, knowing she had finally gone mad.

Her basket, filled with vegetables, fell to the floor in slow motion and she followed it, one word escaping her lips: "R..Rahul…"

…..

(to be continued)


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

…...

"Give her some water," someone, a woman, was saying.

"She won't drink!" a man's voice, impatient and harried, replied.

"Then press it to her lips!"

Cool hands lifted and steadied her chin and a glass was pressed against her mouth, a few small drops of water making her thirsty for more. Her eyelids fluttered open and she took a longer sip as her disorientation subsided.

She was in a back room. There was a computer displaying a game of solitaire and piles of paperwork piled haphazard on the desk beside it. A frayed poster of Lakshmi was pinned to the wall beside a clock reading quarter to four. _What is going on?_ she wondered, staring back at the small crowd of people staring at her.

There were the two gaudy aunties, a moustached man who wore a name-tag reading 'manager', and a frazzled shop assistant.

"You fainted," one of the aunties told her helpfully, while the other hissed something that sounded like _pregnant_ under her breath.

Kiran nodded, the moments before her collapse rushing back to her like a kaleidoscopic nightmare. She gripped the arms of her seat with her hands, digging her nails into the rough upholstery.

"Are you alright?" a different voice asked, interrupted, deep and concerned sounding, "do you need us to call someone?"

Kiran looked in the direction of the voice. It was the man who had been holding the water. He still had it, the ice-cold glass sweating in his palm. He wore a simple white shirt and trousers. There were trainers on his feet. His hair, the longest bits reaching the curve between his neck and shoulders, was thick and black.

Kiran gaped at him, her mouth working open and closed as she tried to form words. It was him, _It was him_! Why was everyone just standing around when Rahul, her relentless pursuer, had returned to harangue her from beyond the grave?

"You're dead!" she squeaked, "I saw you die."

He reached out to feel her forehead and she squirmed away.

"SUNIL!" she screamed, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"Hysteria," one of the aunties said, "pregnancy can bring it on."

"She doesn't look pregnant," the other whispered, "it's drugs, I'm sure of it."

"_Ladies_," the manager shooed them, and the assistant, out, "we can handle this from here," he turned to Kiran and smiled kindly, "Now, what's your name, Miss?"

"_Mrs_ Malhotra, Kiran Malhotra," Kiran said, wondering if anyone else could actually see Rahul. If he were a ghost, wouldn't it be possible for him to haunt only her? But surely someone would react to a water glass floating on its own. She almost told them Sunil's work number but, knowing he would only poke fun at her later, she told them Mrs Kapur's house number instead.

"Raj, would you mind staying with her while I make the call?" the manager asked, heading out of the room. He looked apologetic, "I know you have your own shop to run…"

"It's alright," Rahul answered, "I closed early."

The manager nodded, satisfied, and left.

Immediately Kiran shot out of the chair and across to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between them as she could. She knew she could just leave, but the truth was that she felt a little dizzy, and also she had questions. Lots of questions.

Rahul watched her quizzically, his features calm and relaxed, "don't be afraid," he said gently, "I won't hurt you."

Kiran laughed in disbelief. He had already hurt her: stalked her, abducted her and stabbed her poor Sunil. "Get out of here!" she ordered, "Rahul is dead, I know he is."

"Rahul may be dead," the man answered, "I wouldn't know. My name is Raj…Rajesh Sharma actually. I run a little bookstore just across the road, but I come here often. Ajay, the manager, he's my friend. He buys travel books from me, and sometimes romances, but shush," he put his finger to his lips, his mouth quirking down and up in a half smile, "don't spread it around."

He was trying to calm her, she realised. Talking softly, the way one would to a frightened pet. He betrayed no sign that he knew her, or that her words affected him, but there was something, the darkness in the depths of his eyes, that made her unsure.

"How did he die?" he asked, seeing that she wasn't getting any calmer, "this Rahul?"

"Shot," she said, closing her eyes as the sound of the gun firing once, twice, and more, echoed in her mind, "in the heart."

"There you see," he moved cautiously closer, "No one could have survived that. I can't possibly be him, Kiran," he used her name with no demented stutter. She blinked at him.

"Come on, sit down," Rahul…no, Raj, coaxed, taking her arm with a feather light touch. He lead her to the chair and she sank onto it gratefully, a headache beginning to throb. "There now," he handed her the glass of water.

Ajay the manager re-entered the room, shouting instructions over his shoulder to some unseen worker. He turned to Kiran, "Mrs Kapur's on her way to get you," he gazed at her warily, "we refilled your basket, one of my boys' is ringing it through now, you can pay next time," he gave her a lopsided smile, "when you feel better."

"Nonsense," Raj said, taking out his wallet, "I'll pay for her, after all, it seems to have been the sight of my face which caused her to faint. For that I apologise and," he smiled at her, "I hope you'll come visit my shop sometime, so I can apologise again but, as of fifteen minutes ago, I am almost certain my mother is waiting for my call, so I'll say goodbye, for now."

Then he walked out, just like that. Kiran stared after him.

"You don't need to be afraid of him, Mrs Malhotra," Ajay the manager said, sitting down to his solitaire, "Nicest guy I ever met. Quiet, y'know, wouldn't hurt a fly. Loves his books and his mother and gets me good discounts. Nice guy."

Kiran didn't say anything. She was speechless.

…..

(to be continued)


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

…...

Reflected three times in her dressing table mirror, Kiran smoothed a wet cotton pad over her face to remove her makeup. Behind her, sometimes coming into view, Sunil changed into his pyjamas and expressed his displeasure at the outcome of the cricket match.

"Kiran?" he said loudly.

She jumped, unaware that he had asked her a question. Her eyes caught his in the mirror and she looked down guiltily, sure that he would know exactly who she had been thinking of.

He came over to her and put his big, solid, hands on her shoulders, "Are you sure you don't want to see a doctor?" he asked again, concern etched onto his face. Of course Mrs Kapur had told him all about having to go and fetch her, and that she had collapsed, despite Kiran requesting her not to. But she didn't know why Kiran had fainted, and Kiran wasn't about to tell anyone. Especially not Sunil.

"I told you," she said softly, "it was the heat, that's all, and I hadn't eaten any lunch."

"Not…" Sunil waggled his eyebrows and looked downwards, towards her stomach, "not that?"

She sighed, why was it every time a woman was sick without other symptoms, or fainted, everyone immediately decided they were pregnant? When was the last time she and Sunil had even…she hadn't even known he wanted another child. "It was just the heat," she said again, firmly this time.

His arm slipped across her front and he embraced her from behind, resting his head on her shoulder to stare at them both in the mirror. She looked at him, at his face, and remembered how he had looked the night Rahul had trapped her on the boat. She remembered how she had cried and cried and wished desperately for Sunil to come and save her. How she had refused to believe he was dead, how her watch had finally beeped with reassurance. How Sunil, like some mythical hero, had blasted her villain away.

Rahul was dead.

"I'm tired," she said, pushing Sunil away and getting up. She got into bed and quickly switched off the table lamp at her side, closing her eyes against her husband's hurt expression. She was just drifting off when she felt him climb in beside her and switch off his light…

…Her eyes opened some time later, as her ears twitched to hear the strains of a long ago sung song. _Kiran, _it said, _you're mine, Kiran._ She sat up, startled, and clutched her sheet around her. Her bedroom was different now, there was something on the walls: messages, written in red. Someone had been writing on her walls. That had happened before, she remembered it. He was back! Any moment now the phone would ring…any moment…now….

She woke up screaming, just as the phone rang. Sunil jerked awake. He grabbed her, shocked.

"The phone!" she gasped.

Warily, not taking his eyes off her, he picked up the bedroom extension. "Hello?" he said into it, "Malhotra residence." He said nothing further and, after a few agonising seconds, he hung up.

Kiran stared at him with wide eyes.

"There was no one there," he said casually, "probably a wrong number," he laughed a little, "Kiran stop it, you're scaring even me. Isn't it time you got over this? I know he frightened you once, but that was long ago and he's dead now, you don't need to worry anymore."

….

"Mummy I want strawberry milk in my lunchbox," Priya whined one night after dinner, her homework on the table in front of her.

"Milkshake is bad for you," Kiran said automatically, mopping the tabletop.

"Sarah's mummy lets her have it!"

"Good for her. Your mummy gives you mango juice, don't you like that?"

Priya frowned, torn, "Yes," she said finally, "but I want PINK MILK!" she turned imploringly to her daddy, "_Papa!_"

"Let her have the milk," he said, "if she's making friends."

Kiran sighed and dropped her washcloth in the sink, "What does one have to do with the other?" she asked exasperatedly, fetching a pen to add the item to her ever growing shopping list. But Sunil wasn't listening, his attention had wandered back to the TV.

….

The next day she trawled the aisles of the supermarket, her basket heavy in her hands. Ajay the manager had noticed her entry and offered her a friendly smile. She had smiled back, her face heating with embarrassment.

She couldn't find any strawberry milkshake, only banana or chocolate. Debating over which was the better choice, though they both looked too sugary, she picked the banana and added it to her load.

She stepped out into the street fifteen minutes later, loaded with two heavy bags, and blinked against the sunlight. A man selling newspapers shouted loudly in her ear and she moved away, looking for a place to sit until the bus came. There was a bench in the bus shelter, but a large family of six had already claimed it. There was a café nearby, selling chai and kulfi, but she didn't have enough time for that.

Then she caught sight of a sign swaying in the breeze. 'Sharma Books' it said, painted in yellow. _Raj Sharma owned a bookshop close by and Ajay the manager bought romance novels…but that was a secret_. As if in a trance she began walking towards it, her eyes never leaving the sign. Around her feet swirled scraps of paper and empty packets, escaped from an overflowing bin. It had been two weeks since that day. Two weeks and she had almost convinced herself that Rahul/Raj had been a figment of her imagination. But now she was standing outside his shop and her hand was on the door, pushing it open. Without her notice, the bus pulled up and let people on.

A little bell dinged as she entered and the musty smell of books, combined with something delicious, surrounded her. She walked further in amongst the towering aisles, letting the door close behind her. There were so many books; mazes of them. Faded film posters were plastered to the sections of wall that were visible between the shelves, along with notices about deals and sales. She paused for a moment in the cookery section, not really interested but delaying her journey to find the owner.

Presently she head a voice softly talking. It was his voice, she would know it anywhere.

She followed the sound of it until it led her under an arch to an oak desk. Behind that was an office and the door was half open. She could see his hand, his fingers rolling a piece of blu-tack. As he hung up he used it to stick a handwritten note to the wall. The urge to flee was overwhelming but, even as she tried to move her feet, she realised she was stuck like a deer frozen in the glare of headlights.

He didn't look up straight away as he came out into the shop, he was concentrating on a leaflet held in his hand. His shirt today was black, and he had on a gray pullover. His jeans looked new, she thought, and she couldn't see his feet but she wanted to look anywhere but his face.

"Hello," he smiled warmly when he noticed her, two dimples appearing on his face. His hair was mussed, as if he had run his hands through it or forgotten to brush it.

She stared at him.

"You look better," he observed, "I'm glad you came to see me. I'm sorry for scaring you." when she didn't answer he just smiled and lifted a stack of books off of a cushioned chair. He placed the chair beside her, "sit down," he said.

She did.

He sat opposite her, behind his desk.

"You like cooking?" he asked, referring to the book she had picked up absently as an excuse. Kiran glanced at it, 'Italian Desserts' it said on the cover. She shrugged.

"I don't mind it myself," he continued, "I used to help my mother cook a lot when I was young…"

"Mr Sharma," she said suddenly.

"Raj," he interjected.

"_Mr Sharma, _how long have you been living here?"

"You mean when did I come over from India?" he frowned, thinking, "just over five years ago…maybe six. I inherited this shop from a distant uncle."

Priya was five years old. It had been six years since she had seen Rahul die, proclaiming his love. The exact amount of time.

"I had a book for you," he began rummaging through a drawer, "It came in the day after we met and I thought you might like it…"

"Why are you here?" she asked weakly, "please just tell me. How did you know I would come here? How did you survive?"

He stopped searching and looked at her, his dimples fading as he grew serious, "Mrs Malhotra I'm not the man you think I am, you must believe me. How can I convince you?"

He came close to her and knelt on the floor at her feet. He took her hand in his gently, clasping it like a prayer, "please, Kiran, I want to prove it to you."

She removed her hand from his grasp and touched his face, ever so timidly, with her fingertips. Once she had started she couldn't stop. She trailed her fingers across his cheekbone, feeling the sweep long lashes as he looked down. Every detail was the same. It was the same face. But he wasn't scaring her. If anything, at that moment, maybe she was scaring him.

"The bullets," she touched the collar of his shirt, unable to finish her sentence. But he understood.

First he removed his pullover, folding it neatly before he placed it on top of a pile of magazines. Then he began to undo the buttons of his shirt. Kiran flushed scarlet and turned her face away, pulling her scarf to hide her blush. She was mad, this was mad. This was not happening.

"Kiran, please look," he said.

She didn't want to. She knew what she would see: healed wounds and her name carved into his flesh; hideous scars. "I have to go…" she whispered, gathering her bags while keeping her eyes to the floor.

"Kiran we can't be friends unless you look," he said, "and I want to be your friend, Kiran."

She turned and found him only a breath away. Involuntarily she looked down at his chest. There was nothing there, just smooth brown skin. Her name wasn't there. A strangled noise left her and she stared helplessly at his face. "Someone might come in," she protested faintly, "let me go. Let me go or I'll scream."

"I'm not stopping you," he said sadly.

She ran.

…...

(to be continued)


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

…...

"Now let me see," Mrs Rachel Sanchez, Priya's teacher, flipped through the notes on the desk in front of her. Her hair was in a messy bun and a pencil was tucked behind one ear. She looked harassed but her tone was polite and kind. "Priya, yes. I was concerned about her at first, she didn't seem to be making friends, but everything seems to be all right now. She was shy in the beginning, but now her hand always shoots up when I ask a question…" she peered closer at a sheet of paper, her glasses slipping down her nose, "top marks in homework, she's a very bright girl. A little trouble in maths, but nothing to worry about. I've moved her into the top reading group."

Sunil beamed proudly and shook the teacher's hand, "I told you she would be fine," he chided Kiran, looking at the various drawings and worksheets Mrs Sanchez had handed to him.

"She did complain of being teased," Kiran said slowly.

Mrs Sanchez looked sympathetic, "Yes, there were a few childish jibes, but I promise you that those children, and their parents, were spoken to. We don't stand for name calling and bullying in this school. Priya has made many friends since then, in fact she and Sarah Smith seem to be the two most popular girls. Always centre of attention at recess from what I see."

"That's good," Sunil said, "it's great!" he jostled Kiran's elbow, "don't you think so?"

Kiran smiled, relieved. They thanked Mrs Sanchez and left the classroom, which was painted in headache inducing red and yellow, and made their way to the Gym where they had left Priya playing happily. Refreshments were being served there and Kiran sat down beside Mrs Kapur while Sunil went to grab them some coffee and biscuits.

"My Nicky is doing so well," Rhea Kapur sighed, her tone just tipping over the edge into boastful, "top in maths and reading, merit stars on his jotters. He excels at sports…"

"Congratulations," Kiran said, not quite sincerely. Nicky, or Nikhil, was currently chasing another little boy around, dodging in between the adults that stood in gossiping crowds, and generally causing chaos. Of course, the Kapurs didn't notice this.

Priya was standing near a tray of pink iced cakes with a little pigtailed blonde girl. They were taking turns in cupping each others ears and whispering something which was making them both giggle. Kiran closed her eyes. She had a headache and she was tired, so she wasn't exactly in the best mood. She hadn't been, not since that day four weeks ago when she had visited Raj Sharma's shop. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep.

She looked around for Sunil and spotted him talking to a statuesque blonde woman dressed in a neatly tailored suit and skirt. They were laughing, the woman's fingers gently touching Sunil's arm as they shared a joke. Kiran immediately thought back to the time when, on their honeymoon, Sunil had filmed the foreign girls standing in swimsuits by the pool instead of her. But that was just the way he was: a joker, who wasn't always considerate of her feelings, though he meant well.

"Kiran, this is Natasha -Sarah's mother," Sunil had come over to where she sat, the blonde woman beside him. She was very pretty. "Natasha, this is Kiran -my wife. I thought, since our daughters are such good friends, we should get to know each other."

"It's nice to meet you, Kiran," Natasha said warmly, extending her hand.

Kiran smiled and shook it. There was nothing but friendliness in the other woman's eyes and, as they greeted each other, she realised Sunil was right. It would be nice to have another friend.

Priya and Sarah ran up to them, frosting sticky on their fingers.

"Mummy, Mummy!" Sarah cried, looking positively delighted at the scene in front of her, "can you ask," she batted her eyelashes, "can Priya come with us?" she turned to Kiran and Sunil, "we're going to the zoo on Saturday."

"Please!" Priya joined in.

"I'm taking her," Natasha laughed, "she's been begging me to ask you all weekend if Priya can come. Don't worry," she noticed the apprehension which had suddenly appeared behind Kiran's smile, "if she can't it's not a problem."

"No," Kiran nodded, "It's a good idea. I hope you don't mind if I come along though, is your husband…"

"No, just me." Natasha answered. The two girls burst into excited shrieks as Mrs Kapur looked disapprovingly in their direction, oblivious to Nicky's loud yells.

Kiran went home with Natasha's phone number tucked, on a piece of paper, into her purse. Priya sang happily in the backseat as Sunil drove and then, when they got home, she went obediently to bed, kissing her mother goodnight without fuss.

It was Monday night. Saturday morning was just over four whole days away.

….

Kiran bit her fingernails, chewing nervously, as she sat at the kitchen table. The phone, which had been so quiet all morning, had rung only moments ago. There had been no one on the other end. Or, if there had, they hadn't spoken. It was Tuesday.

Laundry, forgotten now, lingered half in and half out of the washing machine, dripping into the plastic basket she used to carry it. The phone rang again, shill and sharp enough to make her jump and bite down hard. Half her nail came away in her mouth. She spat it out, listening to the rings…one…two…three…four…five…six…sev…it stopped.

…..

"We don't have very many books," Kiran remarked on Wednesday night, as she and Sunil sat watching the news. She stared around at their shelves which were stacked with ornaments instead. "I used to read a lot in college," romances mostly, and film magazines, "I used to like reading."

Sunil turned to her, bemused, "So get some books if you want," he said, "I don't mind."

"You don't like to read," she pointed out, a little resentfully, "you said there are better things to do with time."

He laughed, but didn't answer her. The next morning he left twenty dollars on the side table as he went out, "For books," his note said.

Kiran stared at it.

….

"Bhaiyya," she said into the phone on Thursday afternoon, grateful to hear her brother's voice even though he was talking in cricket terms, as usual, "I miss you both."

He turned serious and his voice sounded so close, even though he was miles and miles and miles and countries away, "We miss you too. Come for a visit soon. Poonam wishes you were here only, she says she's going mad with only me to talk to. She says she's had enough of my bakwas, she says if you don't come here then she'll come there!"

Kiran laughed tearfully, hearing her Bhabi's laughter in the background.

"But how are you?" her brother asked.

Kiran wanted to tell him. She wanted to say that she had seen Rahul, but that it hadn't been Rahul at all. It had been someone that was alive, that had his face. She wanted to say that she kept getting blank phone calls and that she had no one to talk to and that she wanted to be back home, safe with them.

"I'm fine," she said, "I miss you, and I miss India, but Sunil is happy here and," she sighed, "I'll grow to like it, I suppose."

…

On Friday morning the twenty dollars was still there, half hidden beneath a small gold statue of Ganesha. She had already pulled a coat on over her blue salwar kameez and she held an umbrella in her hand. Her other hand hovered over Ganesha's head, her fingers twitching back and forth as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. It was crazy! It wasn't like there weren't a dozen or more other bookshops she could go to, but she knew that, even if she got on a train headed in the opposite direction, she would somehow find herself stepping off the bus outside _his _shop. It was inevitable.

Picking up the money and getting on and off the bus passed in a blur. It seemed no more than a moment later that she was standing outside Sharma Books, the rain beating against her umbrella, a lone figure on a street deserted due to the weather.

A sign stuck to the shop door read 'closed for lunch'. Kiran read it over and over, her teeth chattering.

"Mrs Malhotra!" a voice called.

She turned into the wind, rain splattering her face. Running towards her, holding a newspaper over his head, and carrying a white bag, was Rah…Raj. She stepped back a little as he ducked under the edge of her umbrella to unlock the shop door. Droplets of water left his soaked black hair to trace wet lines down his face. He wiped them away and smiled, holding the door open.

"I didn't expect to see you again," he said once they were safely seated beside a small heater. He patted his hair dry with an old towel, "I was afraid I had scared you too much."

Kiran accepted the half sandwich he offered her, biting into it hungrily, "You shouldn't have done that," she said, remembering his shirtless body, bathed in the afternoon light which stole through the gaps in the shelves, with a blush, "It wasn't right."

"Well, I'm sorry," he apologised, "and I'm glad you're here. Now, since you know what I do and when I came over from India, and even whether or not I have hair on my chest," he laughed and she giggled too, stopping herself abruptly when she realised, "you can tell me about you while we dry."

Kiran told him. She told him about Priya and about her daily life, and the way bleach and polish and other household products gave her dry hands, and about the annoying Mrs Kapur. General stuff. She didn't mention Rahul, though sitting and talking with Raj was making her think of him.

She remembered their college days and the way Rahul had always sat shyly at the back. She hadn't really paid much attention to him, except for when the other girls had begun teasing him about some mushy love letters he had been writing. She hadn't known then that they had been for her. That behind the hesitant smile and bashful stutter had lurked an obsessive and psychotic nature.

Raj talked smoothly and met her gaze evenly. He was nothing like Rahul, really, she thought. Except his face, of course. But a face was nothing to be afraid of, it was what was on the inside that counted.

The telephone rang. Raj picked it up, a smile dimpling his cheeks as he answered: "Hello, Ma," he said, pausing for her reply, "No I'm not going discuss girls with you right now."

Kiran furrowed her brow.

"Why not? Well, because There's a girl beside me right now, she might not appreciate it…No, nothing like that, Ma, it's the lady I told you about, the one I gave a fright to," he rolled his eyes apologetically at Kiran, "Yes that's right, she just came to…"

"buy books," Kiran supplied helpfully.

"Buy books," Raj echoed, "yes, I'll give her a discount. Yes…yes, I'm glad too, yes. Bye Ma, bye…bye." he hung up and sat back down.

"Sorry about that. She keeps calling to suggest a meeting with the daughter of her friend's friend's sister. Nandini something. She wants me to get married, you see," he imitated his mother's voice, "books cannot cook for you, they cannot give you children, they cannot welcome you home at the end of the day," he laughed, "There was a girl I was interested in once, but it didn't work out. Now I never hear the end of it."

"Don't you want to get married?" Kiran asked, sipping the drink he had given her.

"If it's not with the woman I want, then what's the point?" he replied, "I wouldn't be happy with anything less."

"Less than?"

"Less than her."

His eyes were so dark in the shadows between the shifting sunbeams. She could see each fleck of gold in their brown depths, each long lash that cast an even longer shadow against his skin. They were silent now, and she could see the dust particles floating in the air between them. If she reached out, if her hand cut through them to touch his, where it lay on the arm of his chair, would the buzzing she could feel in her fingertips cause a static shock?

"I'm dry," she said, "I'd better go."

It was only when she was seated on the bus, watching the world pass by in drips and drops of coloured rain, that she remembered the twenty dollars still waiting in her pocket. Her hand closed around it and she smiled to herself. She would go back.

…..

"He took his clothes and his car and just left," Natasha was saying as they stood beside the polar bear tank. Sarah and Priya, licking vanilla ice creams, pointed at it and squealed when it came close. "In a way I'm glad, because he was really no good. But Sarah misses him a lot, and my mum doesn't approve. She thinks a child needs both parents."

"I think you're doing a wonderful job," Kiran said honestly, "Sarah's a lovely little girl."

They had spent the whole day watching penguins and Meer cats and zebras and a multitude of other animals. They had had lunch in the zoo café and, while the children had chattered in their own nonsense way, Kiran and Natasha had formed a friendship.

"You're lucky," Natasha took a photograph. Priya pulled a face behind Sarah's giggling back and then, in the next picture, they swapped places, "Sunil's great. You two seem like the perfect couple."

"Sunil has done a lot for me," Kiran agreed. As they wandered towards the reptile house she told Natasha, in a shortened version, of the events surrounding her marriage.

The American woman's mouth fell open and she stopped walking to stare at Kiran in amazement, "Wow," she mouthed, "that sounds like the plot of some horror movie. No wonder you seem nervous all the time. I would be too, if some psycho had been stalking me!"

Kiran laughed, prompting Natasha to join in. It did seem so silly when she told it during the day, in a crowded zoo, with the first bright sun in weeks beaming down on their heads. She told her then about seeing Raj in the supermarket and fainting on the spot.

"I thought he was a ghost!" she admitted, "I thought I was going mad. I didn't tell Sunil because I didn't want him to think so too."

But Natasha's amusement had turned to concern, "But it's not him?" she asked, "This 'Raj Sharma', he's not the same guy?"

"No," Kiran shook her head, "It's impossible. Rahul is dead."

"All the same," Natasha warned, "you should probably steer clear of him."

But it was too late now. Only an immediate flight back to India could keep her from going back to his shop on Monday morning, as soon as Sunil had left for work. Only, and maybe not even, that.

….

(to be continued)


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

(A/N) I don't know much about the layout of New York. I went there once for a week, to attend a cousin's wedding, and I don't remember much. Just think of my New York as being the way it would in a Karan Johar movie (everything within easy reach of each other) and then you hopefully won't be bothered too much :)

If the story seems too simple at the moment (and too much like a straightforward romance) don't worry! I have a plan, and it's going to put the FEAR right back into Kiran's life!

In other words, I hope at least some people are enjoying this!

…...

As it turned out, Kiran was unable to visit the bookshop on Monday, as Priya was sick and had to stay off school. They spent the day watching Disney cartoons together, as Kiran fussed over her. It ended up just being a twenty-four hour bug, and she was glad that her daughter was all right, but disappointed that she hadn't managed see Raj.

Well, that was what she felt. But what she told herself firmly, as she washed dishes, was that she was upset only because she did not yet have a book to read.

She settled down on the sofa beside Sunil and he put his arm around her, pulling her against his warm, solid body. He was watching a film, but Kiran couldn't concentrate long enough to see what it was. Amitabh Bachchan was playing an artist obsessing over some poor, unwilling, girl. It was only when his character, so different from the angsty heroes he usually played, killed the girl's uncle in rage at being denied her hand in marriage, that Kiran squeezed Sunil's hand.

"Turn it off," she begged, "turn it off. Lets watch something else."

Sunil gaped at her, "But it's Parwana," he protested, "one of Amitabh ji's best roles!" he sighed, "Ugh, you want to watch love stories, don't you," he flipped through the channels, "wait a second, I'll find some Swiss fields for you."

You liked those Swiss fields well enough, Kiran thought, when we were running around in them. But she said nothing. When he selected another Amitabh film, Silsila this time, she lay her head on his shoulder and settled down to watch.

…

On Tuesday she found herself bombarded with housework. Things that she had put off due to her constant procrastination during the previous week. The phone rang three times while she was alone. Twice it was a blank call, the third time it was Natasha, requesting Priya's presence at Sarah's birthday party.

"I decided on a clown," she chatted, "and a bouncy castle. Twenty kids in all," she blew out a sigh, "I'll have my hands full."

"Do you want some help?" Kiran asked, thinking that it would be a good distraction.

"You're a lifesaver," Natasha said happily.

…

She dreamed the same dream every night of the week. She was back on the boat, crouching on the slippery deck as Rahul loomed over her, rocking slightly with the motion of the water. He was singing: _You're mine, Kiran, you're mine_, whether you agree or deny…_you're mine, Kiran…._

She couldn't escape him.

…..

"What kind of book would you like?" Raj asked, reaching down to take several from the stack she held in her arms. He slotted them into place on the fiction shelf, the stepladders wobbling slightly as he stretched higher.

"Fiction," she said decisively, looking at the cover which had just been revealed to her, hidden before beneath War and Peace and The Far Pavilions. It was Devdas, a familiar story. She had always loved the film with Dilip Kumar.

Raj glanced down, his bright eyes reading the small title text with ease. "I never liked Devdas," he commented.

"No?" Kiran stared at him, wide-eyed. She had always loved the romance of Devdas and Paro: two lovers meant to be together, but torn apart by fate. Beautiful and tragic.

"No," Raj shrugged, running a hand through his abundant hair, "he gave up too easily -succumbed to drink- he should have done anything to be with her. If he truly loved her, he wouldn't have died at her doorstep, he would have marched in and taken her away. He wouldn't have let her marry in the first place."

Kiran laughed, "Oh, you just want a happy ending," she chastised.

"You think that would be happy?" Raj asked, climbing down off of the ladders. A customer entered, the bell above the door alerting them to the fact that they were no longer alone.

Kiran blinked, faced with a sudden intensity. "I don't know," she said, "two lovers united against all odds…that's happy isn't it?"

"Even if he had to use force in the end?" Raj pressed, his eyes black.

Kiran shrugged wordlessly.

"Excuse me?" an apologetic voice interrupted them. A young woman stood at the entrance to the travel and culture section, "I'm looking for a book detailing tourist destinations in India," she smiled awkwardly, picking up on the strange tension, "I can come back later…" she trailed off, turning to leave.

"Not at all," Raj smiled, "I have just the thing." he picked out a small, handbag friendly book and quickly flipped through it, recommending places to her.

"My friends and I are taking a holiday," she said as he rang up her purchase, "I always wanted to see the Taj Mahal."

When she had gone, Raj and Kiran went back to the books. Kiran set Devdas aside, deciding against it. She ventured instead into the travel section, selecting a thin book on New York. She leafed through the pages, stopping to look at pictures of the Empire State Building, the Statue Of Liberty and Central Park. She had been to the last, of course, when she had gone to the zoo. But as for the others, she realised she hadn't seen any of them.

In the end she chose to buy that book, as well as one on cookery and one entitled 'Wuthering Heights' which Raj suggested to her.

"Haven't you seen the city?" he asked as she paid (half price for every item).

"Well, Sunil has…" she hesitated, "he goes out with work friends. But I haven't, not yet. I don't go out much," she realised how dull that sounded. Certainly nothing like she had been back in India, before the whole Rahul thing had started. Fun had been her middle name and her friends had been plentiful. "We're going to take Priya to Disney World though," she said lamely, as even she didn't know when that would be.

Raj smiled crookedly, "Well, I don't mind taking you around," he offered, "that is, if you don't mind my company."

"What about your shop?" she asked.

"I think I can close for one day without a problem," he slipped a small, leather-bound book into her bag, "Tomorrow then?"

She took the bag from him and peered into it, "What's that?" she asked, meaning the book.

"A gift. Don't you remember? I said I had a book for you the first time you came to visit me. You never gave me the chance to give it to you."

Kiran smiled, strangely pleased. "Tomorrow," she confirmed, nodding her head. Her earrings, long and dangly, glittered with the movement.

…..

Back at home she hid the book on New York in the cupboard beside her side of the bed and then left the others on the kitchen table so that Sunil could see that she had used the money. He glanced through them after putting Priya to bed.

"Wuthering Heights?" he made an expression of boredom, "isn't that just English people running about the countryside and dying?"

She took it off him and smacked him on the shoulder, "It's a classic," she reprimanded him, quoting Raj, "a powerful story of love and hate."

He rolled his eyes, now looking through the cookery book, "This looks good," he pointed to a difficult looking dessert recipe, "make it with a lot of love and I won't _hate_ to eat it!"

She moved to take that off of him also, but he caught her and swept her into his arms. The clock chimed ten. He stood and strode towards the stairs, Kiran a mere feather in his hands. She let out a small yelp, twining her hands around his neck. "Lets go to bed," he suggested, a mischievous look in his eyes.

"Are you going to carry me all the way up?" she asked, amused.

"Yes, but only if you give it to me."

Kiran blinked in confusion, "What?"

He laughed, "Love on every step."

…..

The next morning she left the house five minutes after she watched Sunil's car turn the corner out of their street. Dressed casually, in a white blouse and jeans, and with a purple and green patterned silk scarf tied in her curly hair, she carried a jacket (just in case the rain came back) and her handbag.

She took the bus to Raj's shop where he was waiting for her outside, dressed in a navy sweater and jeans. He smiled as he saw her approaching and she felt excitement stir within her. She was looking forward to seeing the city, something she hadn't cared about much before, and though the fact that Sunil knew nothing of her actions should have bothered her, it didn't. There was something exhilarating in the way she was almost 'sneaking out'.

They caught a train into the city centre and then, as they sipped iced teas on a bench in the station, Raj pored over a map and marked several destinations in black pen. "Where first?" he asked, allowing her to take control.

"Empire State!" she exclaimed, wanting to see the whole city before she began to walk around it.

The view was breathtaking, but in a different way than a view of majestic mountains and valleys. This was a sprawling urban landscape, grey and silver glinting as far as the eye could see. She put a coin into one of the telescopes and looked through it.

"Look!" she said, reaching out to get Raj's attention. She had meant to tap his shoulder but her hand, instead, found his face. She felt his jaw, his lips, then she pulled it back, blushing. "I'm sorry," she apologised.

He dimpled and waggled his head, "It's okay." He pointed out various buildings to her, telling her what they were but not boring her with an overload of information.

From there they went to the Rockefeller Centre and the Natural History museum. Kiran posed for a photo in front of a dinosaur skeleton and laughed when, seated by the Prometheus Fountain, Raj splashed her playfully. She splashed him back and then tugged on his arm, pointing to a vendor selling hot dogs and pretzels from a stand.

"Lets get one," she suggested. They ended up with two hot dogs (one for each) covered in mustard, ketchup and onions, one huge pretzel and two corn dogs, as Kiran hadn't quite been able to decide exactly which she wanted. They ate what they could, while window shopping and walking at a dawdling pace. She felt young again, free, as if they were both the teenagers they had once been. But Kiran caught herself at that thought, as she remembered that Raj was not Rahul.

But it was easy to imagine him as how Rahul might have been, if he hadn't been how he was. She had liked the shy boy well enough in college, had even found him attractive when she had taken the time to notice him. If she hadn't already had Sunil, and if Rahul had told her of his feelings instead of bottling them up, then…who knew what might have been?

They ate lunch on a grassy knoll in Central Park. Most children were at school, so only very young kids ran around them, calling to their parents for attention.

They ended up in Times Square, where they stood on the island in the centre of the traffic and watched the cars go by. Huge colourful billboards and screens dominated the landscape. "Had fun?" Raj asked as she looked at the adverts for The Phantom Of The Opera and Les Miserables. One smallish sign heralded the approaching of the millennium. The number 1999 faded with digitalised fireworks into the number 2000.

She grinned at him, "Lots of fun!" she confirmed, hugging him to say thank you. She kept enough space between their bodies that it wasn't inappropriate, but not enough that she couldn't feel the warmth of him. When she moved back his eyes were unreadable, shuttered, but his easy smile slid quickly into place and he ruffled his hair.

"I'm glad," he told her.

…..

That weekend, while helping Natasha at Sarah's party, Kiran allowed herself to think over the past week. She was happy that suddenly New York, and America, didn't seem so bad after all, and she knew that her change of heart showed as even Sunil had commented on her smile that morning.

She filled with the coloured plastic cups with the tropical juice Natasha had handed her and distributed them, to be eaten with the huge tiered birthday cake.

"I'm glad you like Natasha," Sunil said that night, as they lay in bed, "I was afraid you would never settle here, but she seems to have changed your mind."

_Natasha_, Kiran thought. _Of course he would think it was her, he doesn't know about Raj_. "It's nice to have a friend," she said in agreement. He wasn't wrong, Natasha was nice and they got along surprisingly well, for being so different, but he wasn't right either. It was Raj that she couldn't stop thinking of. How could the face that haunted her dreams have become the one she most longed to see?

…...

(to be continued)


	6. Chapter 6

(A/N) Thank you to those who have reviewed, I am grateful and pleased to know someone is reading this!

CHAPTER SIX

…...

In the two weeks that had passed since touring New York with Raj, Kiran had felt happier than she had in a long, long time. She dropped by Sharma Books whenever she could, so much so that Raj had even joked about paying her. Sometimes they sat in the shop and chatted and sometimes they went out for lunch, or just for a long walk. She found herself confiding in him, things that she often thought but never said aloud.

"Sometimes I worry when Sunil goes out without me," she said, as they stared across the water at Brooklyn Bridge. The sun reflected in glittering gold on the rippling surface.

"You think he would be unfaithful?" Raj asked curiously.

She shook her head, ashamed. "I don't know exactly. I know he loves me, but…sometimes I feel like I don't give him everything he wants. Maybe I'm just paranoid, and I have no right to be since…"

"Since?"

"Since I'm meeting _you_ behind his back," she bit her lip.

Raj gazed into the distance, his eyes clouded, "he doesn't know about me?" he asked.

Kiran pulled a face, "How can I tell him?" she had often pictured the scenario: Sunil's disbelief, his anger, however she imagined it, it always ended with his fist colliding with Raj's face and her visit to a nice doctor for 'help'. "He would not understand."

"Sunil would have to be mad to think about anyone else, if he has you," Raj laughed to lessen the weight of his words, "you deserve someone who loves you completely, who sees no-one else. Who would love you no matter what you did…" he smiled crookedly, "even if you decided to be friends with a strange man who made you faint one day in a supermarket."

Kiran laughed at his joke, focusing on that rather than the words before it, "You're so sweet to me," she said, "even after the way I accused you the first time we met. You deserve someone like that too - someone who will love you completely - and I'm sure you'll find her one day," even if it can't be me, she thought, feeling a little jealous of this future girl.

She shivered, a chill coming over her, and Raj shrugged off his jacket, handing it to her.

"No, I can't" she protested.

"Of course you can," Raj insisted, beginning to walk, "it's the least I can do."

Kiran hesitated for a moment and then put it on. It fit her better than Sunil's jackets did. Raj was smaller, his build slighter, just like Rahul. She hurried after him, falling into step beside him as they crossed the bridge.

…...

Later that afternoon, when Kiran arrived home, she realised that she was still wearing the jacket. She took it off and hung it in Priya's wardrobe, behind her array of party dresses, where she knew Sunil would never look.

"I'm going out tonight," her husband said when he phoned moments later, "friends from work asked me to go for a drink, I might be back late. Don't wait up."

That was the third time he had gone out drinking in the space of only a couple of weeks. Kiran frowned all through dinner, prompting Priya to ask her if her face had become stuck that way.

"Drink your milk," Kiran said in answer.

Later, when Priya was fast asleep and cuddling her Minnie Mouse toy, Kiran crept into her room and removed the jacket from its hiding place. She held it for a few long seconds, just looking at the shape of it in the dim nightlight beam. Then, without thinking, she pressed it to her face and inhaled. It didn't smell of anything really, except soap and old books. There wasn't any distinctive cologne like Sunil used, or any scent she could define as being 'Raj'. She put it back, disappointed in it and in herself and then jumped guiltily as headlights flashed across the ceiling: Sunil was home.

…...

"I prepared you some food today," Kiran said, taking a Tupperware container out of her bag and setting it on the desk. It had taken her all morning but doing it had helped her feel less guilty about everything, "and I brought your jacket back."

Raj stopped counting the change in his till and opened the container, a smile brightening his face as he looked at the small assortment of snacks she had made.

"I brought tea as well," she took out a flask and he hurried to find two clean cups.

They sat down and he bit into a samosa, complimenting her on her skills. Kiran smiled, pleased, and told him to eat more, trying to atone for the sniffing of his jacket. All night she had tossed and turned, trying to explore her own reasons for doing what she did. She had alternated between being angry at Raj for existing and then angry at herself for projecting whatever lingering and twisted emotions she had for Rahul onto him. Finally, around 6am she had come to a decision.

"I don't think I should come here any more," she said, when they had finished eating. He looked up, surprise and pain appearing in his eyes.

"Why not?" he asked, emotion draining from his expression until it was blank. He was annoyed with her. She was annoyed with herself. Everything had been fine, they could have been friends (albeit secret friends), until she had done that. But she didn't want to be an obsessed crazy person, and that was what he was turning her into, though it wasn't his fault.

"It's not right. You've been wonderful, but…" she sighed, "I'm married and I don't like keeping secrets from my husband. Further more," she softened her voice, "every time I look at you I remember _him_," she expected Raj to protest, to tell her that he wasn't Rahul, but he didn't, "and I don't think that's healthy."

He stood up, turning his back to her and looking out of the window. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence. Kiran didn't know why she wasn't leaving or why she was sitting…_waiting_…

"Okay," he said, "go back to Sunil. I tried to be a friend to you, Kiran, but if you don't want that then _go back_," his tone was low, the words almost sounding like a threat, "you shouldn't play with people's emotions, Kiran…"

"I haven't!" she exclaimed. She had only been playing with her own, she hadn't thought about his at all. Now she understood his anger: he had felt it too, whatever had been building up between them. "I'm sorry," she apologised, deflated, "I didn't realise…"

"Really?" he whirled around, his eyes black, "It seems to me you've always had little regard for anyone who wasn't your precious Sunil. Tell me Kiran, do you ever acknowledge anyone else's feelings, even your _own_?" he stared at her and she stared back, almost expecting a crack of lighting to light the room, so intense was his anger, "Maybe one day you'll realise that a man like _that_ can only give you ordinary things, can never make you happy trapped inside his concrete walls, when you need to walk on clouds, on dreams…" he trailed off.

Kiran felt something tug at her heart, as if she had heard such words before. Or perhaps they were the echoes of her own heart. It didn't matter. Sunil had nearly died to prove his love for her: his _safe, _sure, and true love.

"Raj," she faltered, "I'm sorry." Then, as she had before, she ran from his shop.

…...

Waiting for Sunil to come home that night, she found herself in a state of silent hysterics. She wasn't crying, but she felt like she wanted to. The phone rang five times, with no one at the other end, before she yanked the cord out of the wall.

When the front door opened and Sunil's familiar bulk appeared in the hallway, she almost sobbed in relief; flinging herself into his arms. "Hey now," he said, kissing her forehead, "what's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," she helped him out of his coat, "I just missed you, that's all."

"I miss you too," he said, kissing her again, "every moment we're apart."

A tear did roll down her cheek at that, knowing she didn't deserve his words. She ushered him into the kitchen, still carrying his coat folded over her arm, and beckoned him to sit down to dinner. Priya had already eaten and was now watching cartoons happily in the living room.

"This coat is filthy," she remarked in mock anger, holding it up to the light.

He nodded, "I know, I wore it when I went out last night. I didn't realise the state of it when I put it back on this morning," he pointed to the sleeve, "I guess someone split their drink on me."

Kiran laughed and began to fish through the pockets, checking for any keys or money before she washed it. It was only when she checked the breast pocket that she found something: a folded piece of paper.

Sunil shoved a forkful of rice into his mouth, his eyes on the newspaper spread out on the table. Kiran hesitated for a second and then unfolded the paper, her eyes quickly scanning it.

_Sunil, _

_Thanks for a great night! Call me again, I'll take you somewhere even better!_

_Julie._

There was also a phone number and a lipstick kiss smudged onto the bottom of the page. She stared at it in shock, at first refusing to believe what she had read. Eventually Sunil became aware of her silence and he got up to ease the paper out of her frozen hands.

She watched his face as he read it, "Kiran, you can't believe this," he said, his brown eyes a mixture of confusion and quickly forming dread.

"What?" she cried, "what am I supposed believe, Sunil? That this…this _Julie_ is a work friend? That you were discussing cricket with her?"

"I don't even _know_ anyone called Julie!" he protested, "I swear, I don't know how this note got in my pocket!"

But Kiran was again remembering all the times Sunil's eyes had strayed from her: those girls on their honeymoon, the way he had seemed so friendly so quickly with Natasha, all of it was culminating now. She began to walk away from him but he grabbed her arm.

"Please, Kiran, I'm telling you, someone must have put this in my pocket."

"Yes!" she shrieked, "someone named _Julie_. _Let me go, Sunil!_"

He let her go, raising his hands to show that he meant her no harm, "Please," he said, calmly this time, "will you just listen…"

"I'm going upstairs," she glared at him, "you better not follow me, Sunil. Just leave me alone!"

His face fell as she left him, still holding the piece of paper, in the kitchen. Priya stood awkwardly in the hallway, her eyes big with tears as she wondered why her parents were fighting.

Kiran locked herself in the upstairs bathroom and then sat on the floor, crossing her arms over her legs. She felt angry and embarrassed and more than a little hurt. She couldn't believe it of Sunil, not really. He had always looked and she had never minded that, not really, but he had never touched. At least, that was what she had thought.

An hour passed. When she heard Sunil ascend the stairs with Priya to put her to bed, Kiran stretched and splashed her face with water. She stared at the mirror, not really seeing her reflection, just delaying having to go and hear Sunil's explanation, which she _had_ to do. Because she couldn't condemn him on the strength of one crumpled note.

As she opened the bathroom door the doorbell rang. Seeing that Sunil was busy helping Priya into her nightgown, she went downstairs to answer it, wiping her eyes a few times for good measure.

A woman, around thirty years of age, stood on their porch, a smile plastered onto her face. She wore too much make-up and her yellow-blonde hair had dark roots. Her dress was short and clinging and she wore only a cropped jacket to cover it.

"Hi," she said, looking past Kiran, "Is Sunil in?"

"Who are you?" Kiran asked dumbly.

"Julie," the woman said, drawing out the syllables of her name, "I'm sure he's told you about me. You must be his sister, right? He told me you lived with him. Is he in?"

"Come in," Kiran said, showing her into the living room, "I'll just go and get him. Please, make yourself comfortable."

She made it upstairs fairly calmly, only letting her anger get the better of her when she met Sunil on the landing. "Julie's downstairs," she told him with passive-aggressive pleasantness, "you should go and talk to her."

He cast a bewildered look down the stairs but followed her into the bedroom where she got out a small suitcase. When she began to fold and pack clothes, he placed his hands over hers to stop her, "Kiran, you're my wife. I love you and no one else. I don't know what's going on, but please don't do this."

"Your wife?" she laughed hollowly, "I thought I was your sister." She dodged around him and took the books Raj had given her from her dressing table, as well as her purse and some toiletries.

"Go on," she urged when he just stood there, "she's waiting for you."

"Kiran," he pleaded, "where are you going to go at this time of night?"

"I don't know," she admitted, "but I'm not staying here. Not with _her_ in the house."

"Then I'll throw her out!" he yelled, "I don't even know who she is!"

Kiran slammed her suitcase shut and zipped it closed. Then, without looking at him, she marched downstairs, pausing only to grab her coat from the rack in the hall. "He's all yours," she told Julie, whose smile was faltering, "congratulations."

Then she left.

…...

She knew that she could have called Natasha, she knew that the other woman would have taken her in. But friendly reasoning and an ear to listen wasn't what she wanted, or needed at that moment. Raj's last words replayed passionately in her head as she rode the night bus and she found herself alighting on the street outside Sharma Books. Of course it was closed. The lights were off and the shutters pulled down.

She had chosen to ignore her growing feelings for Raj for what? A man who said he loved her one moment and then cheated on her the next? Had her whole married life, and her dreams of that life before the wedding, been only that…a dream? She had been very young when she had first met Sunil, and he had seemed to her like a knight in shining armour. Older than the boyfriends of the other girls she knew, wiser and better able to protect her. She had chosen him without looking at anyone else. But had she chosen wrong? The whole world seemed to be shattering around her as she stood, stock still, in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Mrs Malhotra?" she gradually became aware of a voice speaking to her.

She turned to see Ajay the manager looking at her in concern. Of course, the supermarket was open twenty-four seven.

"Are you alright?"

She shook her head, tears beginning to fall.

"Can I do anything for you?" he asked.

She looked back at Sharma Books, "Can you take me to Raj, please, if you know where he lives."

Five minutes later she was walking down a series of back streets, Ajay the manager's voice chattering kindly in her ear. His hand hovered behind her back, as if he were afraid she was going to faint again and that he would have to catch her. They reached a dull, nondescript building and he led her through a hallway decorated with peeling cream paint and up a flight of stairs. On the second floor was one door, painted red, and he rang the bell, smiling nervously at her.

It took a long time for Raj to answer and when he did it was with sleep-mussed hair and crumpled clothes. "What?" he began, upon seeing Ajay, but then he stopped, noticing Kiran.

Ajay nodded a goodbye, needing to get back to his business. As his feet echoed on the stairs Kiran raised her eyes to Raj's, "Can I come in?" she asked.

…

(to be continued)


	7. Chapter 7

(A/N) Um…things get a little intimate between Raj & Kiran in this chapter. It is necessary to the story, but if anyone feels I need to up the rating I will. Its not too graphic, I promise, I'm terrible at writing sex scenes anyway : (

CHAPTER SEVEN

…...

Raj sat her down on a soft beige coloured sofa and gave her a blanket for warmth. As he disappeared into the tiny kitchen, Kiran tucked her feet up and began to look around.

Unlike his shop, the apartment was neat and tidy. White-painted shelves lined one wall of the main living area, filled with books and tapes. There were a few small lamps switched on for light, and also some fibre optic strands hanging from the ceiling near the TV which glowed blue, red and green in turn. A projector sat on a side table in the corner of the room, a heavy folder beside it. A guitar, layered with dust, was half hidden behind a chair piled high with cushions.

"Is that your mother?" Kiran asked when he placed a steaming mug down in front of her. She pointed to a small, silver framed, picture that sat on the coffee table. The woman, smiling kindly out at them, looked very much like him.

"Yes," Raj said, sitting down.

"Where does she live?" Kiran asked. There seemed to be no one else in the apartment and she had thought that his mother lived with him.

But Raj didn't answer her. Instead he rubbed his fingers across his forehead, "Kiran," he said patiently, "What are you doing here?" he looked at the suitcase leaning against the wall, "I thought you were going to stay away from me?" a slight tinge of accusation coloured his voice.

She opened her mouth, about to tell him, and promptly burst into tears. He didn't hesitate, moving quickly to gather her into a hug. She allowed herself to sob on his shoulder as he stroked her back and hair with soothing intent.

"It's Sunil," she admitted, "I found a note in his pocket. He…he's cheating on me," she drew in a shuddering breath, "I never imagined…"

"Yes you did," Raj countered, "you told me so."

"Yes, but…I thought I was just being silly."

"He doesn't deserve you," Raj shifted more fully onto the sofa, allowing her to lie against him, "he never did."

She felt herself begin to drift off, the rise and fall of Raj's chest relaxing her enough to sleep, "You won't make me leave will you?" she mumbled, closing her eyes, "I don't have anywhere else to go."

"I won't," he reassured her. And then, a few minutes later, his voice washed over her again, just at the edge of her consciousness: "_It took me so long to get you here_."

She awoke a while later to the sound of Raj's soft and even breathing. He was asleep. Somehow their legs had become entwined and her head, which had been more appropriately cushioned on his shoulder, had slipped down to rest on his chest, her arm around his waist. The clock on the TV glowed 12am and she realised she had been asleep for no more than an hour.

Some part of her should have felt ashamed at the way they were lying together, but louder, more dominant voices had squashed that voice of decency until she could no longer hear it. Raising herself onto her elbows, she watched Raj's face. Boldly, she touched the curved line of his nose and then, bolder still, stroked his long, dark lashes, smiling when he twitched beneath her ministrations.

His eyes fluttered open and she found herself drowning in the swirling depths. He was looking at her like she was the most perfect and precious thing in the world, like he couldn't believe that he had woken up to find her there. His hands came up to cradle her head, his fingers carding through the heavy strands of her thick hair. He looked like he might die if she left him now. Kiran had never seen an expression like that before.

She shifted and felt the evidence of his desire against her leg. _You can't_, that voice of reason managed to cry as she blushed, _you're married_. She gasped, the noise catching in her throat as he groaned softly, pressing his face into her hair. _If Sunil cares nothing for his vows then why should I?_ she argued back, feeling Raj's lips press against her neck.

With sure and steady hands, she tilted his face back to hers and, finally, kissed him. His hands spasmed against her, clutching at her hair, her back. They fumbled together, both becoming bolder in their mutual actions as they removed clothes and inhibitions. His eyes never left hers as the pleasure built; still looking at her as though she could disappear at any moment. "_I love you_," he cried softly, his fingers digging into her hips as he reached completion.

"_Rahul,_" she whispered, seconds later.

For a few peaceful breaths everything was wonderful, and then she realised what she had said. She sat up, grabbing what clothes she could, aware that he was staring at her in panic.

"Kiran," he began.

"I just," she covered herself and grabbed her suitcase, "I just…I need a minute," she glanced around helplessly, "where is the bathroom?"

He pointed to a room beyond the open door to the bedroom and she hurried in there, locking the door behind her. Closing the lid on the toilet, she sat down, hiding her face in her hands. _Rahul_, she had said. Where had that come from? Was she so messed up that the idea of making love to _him_ now appealed to her? And Raj, what did he now think of her - if he had heard her unbidden cry.

She began to search through her suitcase for her hairbrush, anything to do to calm her nerves. Instead the small leather-bound book that Raj had gifted her fell out, landing open at her feet. Squinting at it, she realised it wasn't a book at all. It was hand-written, a diary.

_Diary, __Today I saw a dream: a girl, dressed in a yellow salwar kameez, her silver bangles jingling chun..chun..chun… as she walked. Everyone noticed her, but she smiled at me, ME, as she walked through the crowds…_

_Diary, __Her name is Kiran, such a beautiful name, but I can never say it aloud, especially not to her, because I stutter too much. Everyone loves her, but only I love her enough…_

_Diary, __It is torture being in the same college, the same classes, as her. Sweet, painful, torture. I love you Kiran! I want to cry, but instead I just write it over and over again. Letters that she will never ever read…_

_Diary, __Today, at the open day, there was a man with Kiran. An older man, an ugly man, and his arm was around her waist; squeezing it like a big gorilla hand. How dare he touch her? Who is he? Why was she smiling at him so sweetly? Why was I hiding from them? Why can't I tell her…I love you…I love you…you're mine Kiran, only mine…_

_Diary,__Today, Sanjay, that idiot in our register class, lifted the veil of Kiran's sari. He'll never do that again. He'll never do that again._

Kiran closed the book, remembering the day Sanjay had been found, beaten almost to death outside the gamekeeper's hut. He had left the college, never to return, telling everyone some story about a gang of rough men who had attacked him for his wallet. She had thought it strange then, because there had never been any danger around their college, but now she shivered.

She had been right all along, why had she allowed him to fool her?

"Kiran," there was an urgent pounding at the bathroom door and she jumped, hitting her head on the cabinet above the toilet. "Kiran, don't do this. Kiran, _I love you, K…K…K…Kiran…"_

…...

(to be continued)


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

…...

"KIRAN!" the pounding grew louder, his voice agitated and shaky - as it had been the night he had trapped her on the boat - "Kiran, d…don't do this, K…Kiran come out, please!"

Desperately she glanced around, looking for a window to escape through. But there was nothing; just her reflection, scared and tearstained. She stumbled backwards in fright as he rattled the doorknob and accidentally knocked over several of the bottles that lined the sink.

"Kiran," his tone became coaxing, gentler, "you knew it was me…you said my name…"

"NO I DIDN'T!" she shrieked shrilly, "I did NOT, I didn't!"

"You did. You finally admitted it - Kiran- you love me, just as I have always loved you. Where was Sunil when we two became one, he wasn't even in your mind was he? Only I, because I'm yours, K…K…K…Kiran, and you're mine."

"Rahul, leave me alone," she begged, sobbing hard as she fell to her knees, unable to support herself any longer. Scrambling through her suitcase she pulled on a pair of jeans and fastened a cardigan over her haphazardly buttoned blouse. She had no way of getting help: not even the lifeline of a beeping watch. She would have to open the door, because if she didn't he would break it down. Either way she couldn't escape.

No sooner had she turned the latch than Rahul shoved the door, almost hitting her in the face. Hastily dressed, his shirt hanging half open, he stared at her wildly. His eyes, glassy and crazed, were nothing like the eyes of the 'Raj' she had come to know. He grabbed her roughly, his hand like a vise around her wrist. "You can't deny it now," he shook his head, "you can't."

Sobs wracked her body and she tried in vain to twist away from him, her free hand coming up to push him away. He batted it aside, unmoving. She clawed at his shirt, and his shoulder beneath that. He let her attack him, not letting her go, just patiently waiting for her to run out of steam. Eventually she did, falling against him.

It felt like someone had ripped her down from the height she had scaled and then plunged her beneath a sea of ice cold water, where she was now drowning. "You tricked me," she whimpered, "You forced me…"

"No, K…Kiran, you came here of your own free will. _You_ touched me, _you_ kissed me, _you _called my name: _Rahul_. Say it now, because it's the only name you ever need say again. There is no Raj, there never was. There is only me."

"I didn't know," she floundered helplessly, but it wasn't the truth. Somehow, some part of her had always known…that was why she had said his name, because no truths can be hidden when all is shared.

She lunged, managing to wrench her hand away, and began to crawl for the door. He was upon her again in seconds, lifting her and wrestling her back into the bedroom. He threw her on the bed and she cringed, terrified of what he would do. But he only reached over her to bind her wrists, tying them both together and then to the metal of the headboard. He looked at her sadly as she struggled, sweat beading his brow, "I'm sorry I have to tie you up," he said, "and I'm sorry we weren't able to be married before consummating our love, but it isn't my fault. If you hadn't married _Sunil_, if he hadn't attempted to kill me, things might have been different."

He began to back out of the room, switching the light off as he left and plunging her into total darkness.

"SUNIL!" she screamed, "HELP!"

…...

Leaving Priya with a confused and concerned Rhea Kapur, Sunil slammed the door of his car and revved the engine. He had sent that woman, Julie - or whoever she really was- packing with a curt dismissal after she had refused to tell him who had sent her.

He sped through the quiet streets, unable to fully understand what had just happened or why. His first, and only thought was to find Kiran, and the only place she could have gone was to Natasha's house: she knew no one else.

He pulled in to one of the private car-parking spaces in front of the neat terraced house where Natasha lived. Lights were on in the downstairs windows and he sighed in relief, racing up the steps to ring the bell.

There was no answer at first, but on his second ring the door opened to reveal a small, bespectacled, old lady.

"Pardon me," he apologised, "But is Natasha home?" the woman looked enough like her for him to gather that it was her mother.

She nodded, allowing him in as she called her daughter.

Natasha raised her eyebrows in shock when she saw him, her expression betraying no sign that she knew why he had come.

"Is Kiran here?" he asked, now knowing it was pointless.

"No - Sunil, what's happened?"

He told her, as quickly as he could, the events of the night, stressing his innocence when she became sceptical. "Please, if you know where she could have gone, tell me."

Natasha paused, obviously unsure of what she was about to disclose. Her mother lingered in the hallway between the kitchen and the lounge, where they were standing, holding Sarah in her arms. The little girl had woken up, disturbed by their loud voices, and was now yawning widely at Sunil.

"Kiran told me a story," Natasha began, "about a man named Rahul. She said he used to call her and harass her before you guys were married. That he chased you all the way to Switzerland and tried to kill you."

Sunil nodded, "It's true," he confirmed, "but what does it have to do with where she is?"

"A couple of months ago she met some guy while shopping. She fainted when she saw him because he looked exactly like that Rahul…"

Sunil remembered that day. He remembered coming home from work to discover Rhea Kapur fussing over his wife in the kitchen, telling him that she had collapsed from the heat.

"…Well, she went back to see him again. She's been meeting him often. She says his name is Raj Sharma. She says it can't possibly be Rahul, because…well, because you shot him dead."

At this statement her mother let out a loud gasp and fled upstairs, taking Sarah with her.

Sunil sank heavily onto the chair behind him, Natasha's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. Of course he had noticed that Kiran had been acting a little strangely, but she had seemed happy. After the depression she had sunk into the first few weeks of their move, he had been glad to see her come to life again, confident that she would eventually reveal that she had joined a book club or something along those lines.

"She might have gone to him," Sarah was saying, "but don't worry," she patted him comfortingly on the shoulder, "It sounds like Raj is a great guy, I'm sure she'll be fine."

"You don't understand," he sighed, "Rahul didn't die when I shot him. In fact, he may still be alive…"

…...

Kiran rubbed her wrists together furiously, trying to break the rope, wincing as they grew raw and wet with blood. She couldn't see anything but she could hear Rahul pacing outside the door, talking on the phone.

"Ma, don't worry," he was saying, his voice alternating between being close and distant, "she'll come around. She has to," he paused, "Of course I'll marry her, I won't dishonour her like that. Sunil? Well, there's only one thing to be done about him, but now that she knows the truth about him I don't think she'll be too upset," he paused again, apparently listening to a voice that Kiran knew was not there.

She remembered now. Rahul's mother was dead.

"Yes, Ma, I'll bring her home to you. Don't worry, we'll see you soon."

She heard him hang up and then he opened the door, making her blink at the sudden intrusion of light. "My mother is very happy," he smiled, dimpling, "she's been waiting a long time, just like me."

"Just tell me one thing," Kiran pleaded, as he loomed over the edge of the bed, "I saw Sunil shoot you that night. I saw you die. How can it be possible…how are you here now?"

"You think a bullet can stop love?" Rahul laughed manically, "No, K…K…Kiran, it only delayed it. What did _he_ tell you? What happened after he sent you down into the cabin while he steered the boat to safety?"

"The police met us at the dock, they took your body away to be identified by your father and then flown back to India," she parroted, the words coming to her easily. Sunil had repeated them to her so often, whenever she had cried out in fear of shadows, "You were dead."

"Funny," he paced, "that's not how I remember it," he ran his hands through his hair erratically, "I woke up, I breathed again, but you weren't there. There was only him, and me. He heard me, turned around and left the wheel. I crawled at his feet because I didn't want to die, Kiran. I begged him to take me to a hospital. I had only loved you, I had never hurt you…he laughed, he kicked me…he picked me up and tossed me overboard…"

"_No!_" she gasped.

"Yes. Somehow I managed to swim to shore. Somehow I managed to get help. He told you I died, he told everyone I died, but they never found a body because they weren't looking for one that could walk and talk! I hid in Switzerland until my father came for me. Guilt made him help me, guilt over what he did to my mother! He gave me money, gave me a new identity and , yes, helped me to remove the scars of your betrayal!" his voice rose as he became more and more enraged, "I came here to America to _forget you_, Kiran, and I thought I had - until you found me! Yes -_you found me!_ You knew me even when I was someone else, and now we are together. A happy ending."

"Do you really think this is happy?" she spat, "do you think I'm happy?"

"You said it!" he yelled, "_Two lovers united against all odds, that's a happy ending!_ Despite death, despite your betrayal, despite the oceans that separated us, _we have united!_"

"But this isn't the end," she argued, her voice becoming as hysterical as his, "Do you think Sunil will just give me up without a fight? Do you think he won't save me?" she was asking herself as much as him because, unlike that night six years ago, she was no longer sure of her husband's unfailing love.

"Even if he comes, and he will, the ending will be different this time, because our roles have reversed. I have made him the villain: the cheating, lying villain, and I - who you turned to, who you made love to - I am the hero!" his mania abated slightly as he bent to kiss her cheek reverently, "don't be afraid," he consoled her, "there is no fear in love."

….

(to be continued)

(A/N) its only going to get crazier from here on in, I promise.


	9. Chapter 9

(A/N) So, after a long time, here is the next chapter. It's quite crazy, but things will calm down as bit after this...kind of. I have a plan. I've been ill and still am so please excuse the lack of updates, however I hope to finish this story within the next two months so I should be updating quite regularly from now on. Thank you to anyone who reads!

...

CHAPTER NINE

…...

Kiran awoke hours later after eventually crying herself into a fitful sleep. She tested the ropes that bound her, tugging at them with all her strength. When she realised that they would not give, she looked around the room for a sharp implement that she could hopefully use. As her gaze slid past the bare and useless dresser she gasped: on an old wicker chair, seated deep in the shadows, was Rahul, the whites of his eyes a visible gleam in the darkness.

"Kiran," his voice trembled with shame, "I am so sorry for scaring you. I'm not like that anymore, you must believe me, but I was so afraid of losing you again."

"Why should I believe anything you say?"

He jerked his head, leaning forward into the light, "You must believe me," he insisted, gripping the arms of his chair, "I love you Kiran, and I want to marry you."

"I'm already married," she spat, her eyes narrowing.

Rahul shook his head and stood up. Kiran watched him move across the room, holding her breath, and drew her legs up as he sat down on the bed. "You still don't understand," he sighed deeply and stroked her knee with his fingertips, "I wasn't looking for you, Kiran. _You_ found me, _you_ brought me into your life again and this time not as a villain. _I _was the one you went to for help, to escape from Sunil. You forfeited your marriage when you came willingly into my arms, now you're mine, truly, and when we get to India it shall be legal."

"_India?_"

"Yes, we leave today in fact. Don't worry, I have a whole suitcase full of clothes for you – I know your size."

"It won't be legal…I'm already married. I was married in India!"

"It will be legal if you're a widow…" a dark smile crossed his face, dimpling his cheeks with a sweet menace that made her shiver where she lay.

"What do you mean?" she asked fearfully, her breath catching in her throat.

"What do you think Sunil is doing right now…hmm? I think he probably sent that woman, Julie, home – he doesn't know her after all – and then started looking for you, sniffing after you like the disgusting dog he is. You probably told that blonde about me…"

"Natasha!" Kiran gasped.

"How long before she tells him who you've been seeing behind his back? How long before he comes knocking on my door, hmm, K…K…Kiran? You've been here for quite a while now, he must be on his way, in fact…"

Rahul glanced down at his watch just as a heavy pounding began to rattle to front door. Kiran stared at him in horror and opened her mouth to scream. She then sputtered as a white face cloth was shoved mercilessly into her mouth and secured there by duct tape.

Rahul reached for the radio, which was next to the bed, and turned the dial all the way up. Loud music filled the room, making her eardrums ring.

"Don't worry, Kiran," he kissed her forehead tenderly, "It will only take a minute."

…..

Sunil beat his fists against the door; hitting it so hard they almost bled. "Sunil, stop," Natasha pleaded, putting her hand on his shoulder to try and calm him.

Ajay the manager stood further down the corridor, seemingly ready to run at any moment. His left hand covered his mouth beneath his moustache and his eyebrows were drawn together in concern.

"Listen," he said, "I'll call the police."

"You call them," Sunil raged, "Call them and tell them my wife's been kidnapped."

"Look, she asked me to take her here. I don't call that being kidnapped."

"RAHUL! RAHUL OPEN THIS DOOR NOW!"

"_Rahul?_" Ajay the manager looked confused, "look, I don't know what's going on here, but…"

"WILL YOU JUST LEAVE?" Sunil bellowed.

Natasha smiled apologetically, "Thank you for your help," she said, "we can take it from here."

They were left alone, the sound of Ajay's retreating footsteps mingling with Sunil's constant knocking. He looked around for something, anything, that he could break the door down with but saw nothing. The hallway was dimly lit, the paint peeling, and the floor scraped and scuffed. To think that his wife - lovely delicate Kiran - had willingly walked through this probably roach-infested place and into the lair of the man who had tormented her for years, was almost unbelievable.

Suddenly there was a click and the releasing of a latch. The door opened to reveal Rahul, his eyes wide and innocent. He bowed his head to Sunil and clasped his hands together, "G…good evening," he stuttered bashfully, "h…h…how can I h…help you?"

With a roar of rage Sunil grabbed him by the collar, almost yanking him full off his feet, "Don't you dare pretend you don't know where she is!" he threatened.

Rahul looked down at where the tips of his shoes were barely grazing the ground and then laughed. It was a strange, girlish, giggle that earned him a punch in the face.

"_Sunil_!" Natasha begged, "Please calm down!"

"I'll calm down when Kiran is standing, unharmed, in front of me."

"Don't you want to know how I survived when you threw me into the water to drown?" Rahul asked, tracing his split-lip with shaking fingers, "don't you want to know the hospital visits I went through, the _months_ my father made me sit in therapy, all because of _you?_"

"Go on then," Sunil struggled against Natasha's placating hold, "tell me how it's _my _fault you're a crazy fucking psycho?"

"Or should I tell you…" Rahul cast a sly glance back at his living room couch, "how it's _your_ fault that your wife made love to me last night…right over there."

Sunil broke free and rushed towards the smaller man, aiming a blow to his face and then another to his stomach. Rahul grunted and dodged the next, managing to deliver a solid crunch to the larger man's nose. All the while the music pounded from behind the locked doorway of the bedroom, drowning the sound of Kiran's muffled screams.

The two men were locked together in a violent scuffle, crashing into bookcases and sending glasses and photo-frames to smash on the floor. Natasha looked around for a phone but saw none in sight. Quickly she rooted through her handbag for a mobile, intending to call the police, but her cell was dead.

"Stop, please…Sunil, we can get the police…" she had never seen or felt this level of hatred before, nor this violence. They looked as if they would kill each other. She had to stop them.

Frantically she threw herself into the fray, trying to break them apart. Someone's fist collided with her jaw and she tasted the metallic tang of blood in her mouth. And then a blow to her temple. The world went black as she stumbled backwards, tripping over her own feet.

Sunil threw Rahul off of him and watched in horror as Natasha fell, hitting her head off of the pointed edge of the coffee table. She lay on the floor, blood blossoming red in her blonde hair. With a choked cry he bent down to check her pulse, not noticing the vase Rahul held in his hands until it collided with the back of his skull. He slumped down, his eyes closing.

…..

Kiran sat in the car, her arms and legs bound and her shoulders tied to the seat. It was dark out and raining. Hours had passed since Rahul had answered the door. She had drifted in and out of sleep on the bed until he had awoken her gently and carried her out of the pitch black flat.

He had left her now, for only a moment, to go and get something he had left behind. She couldn't reach the horn or she would have hit it none stop until the whole neighbourhood woke up.

Her mind was racing from thoughts of Sunil and Priya, to pangs of guilt, to incomprehension about what had happened, to debilitating fear and back again. She gasped, choking on her gag, when the car boot opened and something was shoved and pushed inside.

When Rahul got into the driver's seat she stared at him, her eyes wide and bloodshot.

He tucked a loose curl behind her ear and wiped the tears from her cheeks. Then, with a confusing gentleness, he removed the tape and gag from her mouth. She coughed, sucking in clean air.

"W…Where are we going?" she asked.

He smiled, "Home."

He started the car, revving the engine before pulling out of the parking space. The streets were deserted aside from one homeless person curled up in a doorway. Two of the streetlights were on the fritz, eerily blinking yellow and black shadows over the wet road. The backseat of the car was loaded with suitcases. Something shifted loudly in the boot as they hit a speed bump.

"What's in the boot?" she asked cautiously, her voice hoarse.

Rahul didn't even look at her. "Sunil," he answered casually, and began to hum an old tune.

_Jadoo Teri Nazar,_

_Khushboo Tera Badan,_

_Tu Haan Kar Ya Naa Kar…. Tu Hai Meri Kiran…._

…_..Tu hai Meri Kiran…._


	10. Chapter 10

(A/N) in response to a review : ) I do see this as a Rahul/Kiran story. That is my intention to write that pairing in a way that could be possible in keeping with the actual movie (barring some artistic license) I'm not a Sunil (or Sunny for that matter) fan, however I don't want to discount his character just because of that. In Darr he did love Kiran, did save her, did face death for her...so by all accounts he is the hero...no matter who I prefer : D I am trying to keep everyone as true to their original portrayal as possible (its quite hard with Kiran cos her personality in the movie basically consists of being afraid and not much else) but, yeah, I'm rambling, just want to confirm that my intention is Rahul/Kiran...happy or not... : ) On another note...I am always imaging 'ajay the manager' as looking like Ajay Devgn... :D

CHAPTER TEN

…...

Natasha awoke, drawing a deep shuddering breath and gingerly touching her hand to her wet hair. Her head was pounding and when she drew her hand away it was red with blood. Groggily, she struggled into a seated position and tried to collect her thoughts. As she looked around the small living room, lit by the early rays of dawn peeping through the blinds, she remembered how she had come to be there.

Panicking she looked around for Sunil. There was no sign of him – just pieces of smashed vase and some more blood staining the carpet.

"HELLO?" she cried, "_Kiran?_"

There was no answer, only silence and the ticking of a clock.

She blinked and her vision doubled. Standing, she bent over, feeling sick, and then searched for the phone. She found it half hidden beneath the sofa and began dialling slowly.

"911, please state your emergency."

Natasha felt the words spill out of her mouth with increasing hysteria. She told them what had happened, what Kiran and Sunil had told her about Rahul – how he had been living under the name Raj – and what she feared had happened while she had been unconscious.

Within minutes she was assured that the police and ambulance services were on their way.

...

"W…what are you going to do with him?" Kiran asked. There had been no further noise from the boot. She was terrified her husband was already dead.

Rahul laughed, "Nothing," he patted her knee, "leave him in there. I'll park the car in the long stay car park, it will be under the name Raj Sharma…by the time anyone looks in there we'll be far, far away and…"

"Stop it." Kiran looked away from him, tears brimming and over-spilling onto her cheeks. She could see the airport out of the window. As she watched, grimly determined that her crying should be silent, planes took off and landed: British Airways, KLM, Air France, Easy Jet, and Air India.

Rahul parked the car and collected a luggage trolley, then he untied her and smoothed out her wrinkled clothes.

"L…look at me Kiran," he said gently, flashing a pleading, dimpled smile. She obeyed and he brushed away her tears before kissing her once. "You be good for me, okay, and maybe I will tip someone off about Sunil…"

"You'll let him live?" she clasped his hand, "please Rahul."

He sneered at her, "It's more than he did for me, remember that."

They made their way to the main building to check in. Rahul had one hand on the cart and the other gripped Kiran's wrist with a strength that belied his slight form.

In her panic it seemed that everyone's eyes were on her and yet not; that the strangers she passed – families, kids in Mickey Mouse ears, business men, security guards – were choosing to ignore her plight. Though she knew that, despite her red eyes, they probably looked like a loving married couple, so in love that they had to hold hands even walking through an airport.

The check in queue for Air India was long. They stood at the end, behind a large, noisy family, and waited. Rahul's fingers stroked her palm and she shivered. They shuffled forward, one step every five minutes. The scent of early morning coffee wafted through the air, and the shouts and cries of harried travellers drowned out the sound from the huge TC screens that were dotted around. Kiran squinted at one. A man, looking very much like Ajay the manager, was speaking to a reporter. Several policemen were in serious conversation behind him.

Suddenly her picture flashed up onscreen. She gasped, almost turning limp with shock. Rahul tightened his grip on her, his eyes quizzical. The nearest TV screen was behind him and he couldn't see it. Kiran recovered herself, "Sorry," she said, "I'm just exhausted, I think."

He nodded and they shuffled forward again. Kiran looked back at the screen but it was now displaying sports results and she sighed.

When they reached the desk, Rahul handed their passports over. How had he gotten hers? Kiran felt cold. He must have been in her house. Those blank calls hadn't been her imagination, and he had been close enough to Sunil without his knowledge to slip that note from 'Julie' into his pocket…so of course he could have been in her house. She thought of Priya and shuddered.

It was all her fault. Why had she pursued Raj? Why had she chased her own monster?

The attendant had taken Rahul's passport away, leaving her own on the counter. Rahul and Kiran watched her as she spoke to another attendant, both occasionally glancing their way. One of them pressed a button on the wall just as a senior-looking staff member came up behind them.

Rahul's hand suddenly felt damp against her skin. He blinked rapidly and turned around, perhaps trying to hide his face. Kiran cringed and she realised that, in his new position, he could now see the TV. It was playing the same footage as before. Ajay the manager – it definitely was him – and then her face, smiling. The picture was from Priya's fourth birthday party; her hair was loose and curling. Just after clicking it Sunil had kissed her and told her how much he adored her. Kiran let out a choked sob.

Grabbing two bags off of their cart, Rahul turned on his heel and dragged Kiran after him, pushing a path through the disgruntled people waiting to check in. They were creating a scene, but Kiran couldn't look back to see if the alarm had been raised. She could barely balance and she stumbled, tripping over her own feet, as Rahul swept her along in his frenzy.

Outside they came upon the waiting cabs. One had its door open - the driver was close by, smoking near a trashcan – but he was too slow for Rahul.

Kiran found herself shoved unceremoniously into the back – the bags tossed in after her – as Rahul got in the front and locked the doors. The driver rapped on the window, his expression halfway between anger and bemusement. Rahul looked at him and Kiran couldn't see his face, but whatever was in his eyes made the driver back off. Then, tires screeching, they pulled out.

"They'll follow us. They'll find us, Rahul," she tried to make him see reason.

He didn't answer her. He just drove for miles and miles and miles and miles until everything blurred into one and she fell asleep, no longer dreaming that she could hear the sound of sirens closing in on them.

...

She awoke hours later in his arms as he carried her through the door of a seedy motel room. She only got a small glance outside, but they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere.

"Where are we?"

"Across the border," he said, his eyes black in the shadows of the room. He switched on the lamp as he laid her on the bed. Their bags were by the door and he fetched them in before locking it and tucking the key into his shirt pocket.

Kiran spotted a small tourist booklet on the otherwise bare desk, "Canada?" she said, not really asking.

He seemed deflated, at a loss. She watched him pace for a long time, too tired to start pleading for her freedom. He would never give it to her anyway, not as long as they both lived.

Eventually she got up, intending to use the bathroom. He was at her side immediately, restraining her with his hand.

"I want to have a shower, Rahul," she said, "I _have _to."

He seemed hesitant but eventually nodded.

"I need toiletries," she pushed her luck.

He pointed to one of the bags and she picked it up, tensing as he followed her to the door. For one breathless moment she was afraid he would make her leave the door open, when the shower – with its clear curtain – was in plain view, but he closed it after her.

"If you lock this door I will break it down…do you believe me…K…Kiran?"

"Yes," she replied, placing her hand against the firm wood of the door and wondering if he was doing the same on the other side. When she heard his footsteps retreat she allowed herself a sigh of relief. In the mirror her eyes stared widely back at her, the pupils tiny in the bright light of the bare bulb.

She turned on the shower and began to undress, opening the bag to grab shampoo or underwear or soap or whatever he had packed. Her hand brushed against something that rattled. Entranced by the sound she picked it up.

It was a small, brown pill bottle with a white lid. She could barely read the name, let alone pronounce it, but the description she understood well enough: anti-psychotic.

She stared at it and waited to be afraid. But suddenly, looking at what she held, all the fear left her and only sadness remained.

"Oh, Rahul," she sank to the floor, turning it over in her hands and listening to the rattle of the pills, "when did you stop taking these?"

...

TBC…..


	11. Chapter 11

(A/N) Disclaimer: I know nothing about medication of any kind (other than ibuprofen etc) and so I'll skirt around what the pills are and use the good old 'movie medication' excuse. You should be familiar with it: most countries (specifically Hollywoodland) employ it...you either skirt around the issue or make up something to fit your fake diagnosis. lalalalaaaaa. Also again...American/Canadian geography is not even slightly my forte. I could look at a map...but...y'know...in DARR Switzerland had a sea...so... so expect no gritty realism here :D

CHAPTER ELEVEN

…

When she came out of the bathroom, her hair still wet and just beginning to spring back up into curls, Rahul was laying on his back on the bed, covering his forehead with his hands.

She crept quietly but he heard her.

"M…my head…K…K…Kiran…" he reached out to her, his shoulders and neck tense. She moved closer with wary steps and bent over him, her hand smoothing over his forehead before she could stop herself.

He gazed at her and his eyes were fathomless.

What was he? Why had he survived?

"I found some paracetamol," she lied, "would you like some?"

He nodded, his lips dry and chapped.

She disappeared back into the bathroom and turned on the tap, filling a glass with water. Then, her hands shaking only a little, she unscrewed the lid of the pills she had found earlier and emptied two into her hand. They were so tiny, so innocuous. She took them to him.

He managed a smile, his mouth turning down on one side before it turned up and dimpled. He had such a strange face: one moment he was like a little boy and the next so intense and frightening.

The bed creaked as he swung his legs over the side to sit up and she sat next to him, keeping at least an arms length between them. She didn't dare breathe as he placed both pills on his tongue at once and then gulped the water, swallowing them down.

"Hadn't we better go back?" she almost whispered, "since we can't get to India anymore?"

His eyes flashed and he shook his head, "No. You're mine now, Kiran. India or Canada, what does it matter as long as we're together?" His words hung heavy in the air as he stared at her for what seemed like hours but could only have been seconds. Then he produced a length of rope from somewhere behind him and pushed her down, binding her hands to the headboard. She didn't struggle, but she didn't help either, making her body as heavy and cumbersome as she could.

"I'm going to get food," he kissed her forehead, "I love you…K…Kiran."

…

Sunil kicked out as hard as he could, ignoring his splitting headache and screaming through his gag. The car was shaking with the force of his actions and he prayed someone would notice. He prayed that it wasn't abandoned in the middle of nowhere.

In his minds eye visions of Rahul, the crazy little bastard…the little fucker...he should have made _sure_ he was dead that night on the boat all those years ago. He should have shot him until there was nothing left to shoot.

"HELP! DAMNIT!" he pounded the car again and then, managing to shift a little in his position, kicked hard at a different angle. The boot lid jerked, seeming to come slightly loose, and in a fit of adrenaline-fuelled rage he hit it again and again until it sprang open – the lock well and truly broken.

Managing to sit up, Sunil looked out across a sea of cars, their rooftops gleaming in the sun. He blinked and, using a sharp piece of the broken boot, he managed to rub the rope against it hard enough to free his legs and, in turn, his hands. When he tore off his gag he roared in anger. The closest people were right at the other end of the car park and couldn't hear him.

A quick deduction via sign reading informed him that he was at the airport and, his heart hammering in his chest, he dashed of in search of the terminal and someone who could help him.

…

Kiran opened her eyes to see Rahul, his back to her, rustling through a large white shopping bag. She got up to see what he had bought and noticed several juice cartons had already been drunk.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked, realising as she absentmindedly rubbed her chafed wrists that he had at some point untied her.

"All night," he smiled at her, his expression so loving that she blushed, ducking her head like a shy schoolgirl.

Taking her hands in his, he smoothed his fingers over her raw skin and kissed the rope burns gently, "I'm sorry," he mouthed against her palm, clasping her hands in his like a prayer, "I don't want to hurt you." He looked up again and his eyes were wet with tears.

Did she draw him into her embrace or did he force his way in? She didn't know, but all of a sudden their faces were so close that she could make out each long lash that framed his eyes – could feel his breath, cool and sweet against her cheek. He wasn't so tall, not like Sunil. She could close the gap if she wanted.

"Do you want me to make lunch?" she asked instead, backing away and leaving him bereft.

"I do want to shower," he had the decency to look sheepish, "I watched you sleep all night."

She felt the colour flood her face again, and yet her skin crawled and she swallowed, confused by her warring responses. "Yes, let me make it," she forced a sweet smile, "you shower. You've done enough for me…It's time I do something for you."

He paused at the bathroom door, "I don't know how I've lived without you Kiran…"

"I've never lived without you, though…have I Rahul?"

He tilted his head, trying to understand her meaning. She only smiled sweetly until he smiled back and closed the door.

As soon as it had shut she dashed to the room door and tried to open it but, after several seconds of jiggling the handle, she gave in and accepted that it was locked and that Rahul had the key.

The bags were full of cheap easily prepared food – the kind she had never enjoyed eating. Kiran felt in her pocket for the bottle of pills and sighed in relief as she realised they were still there. Choosing two microwavable burgers she ventured over to the small- once white but now slightly brown- microwave in the corner of the room and put them both in for just over two minutes.

There was a tray of complimentary instant coffee and milk beside a kettle that had seen better days. Rahul had obviously already used it, as an empty, dirty, mug stood beside it and water still remained inside. She hit the button to boil it and prepared two cups.

As she was pouring something caught her eye: a plain white phone, which all hotels and motels provided. She dashed over to it and began to dial her home number but there was no tone. With a sinking heart she traced the wire to where Rahul had cut it. In frustration she uttered a quiet curse and returned to her chores.

The burgers had finished and she took them out, placing them on plates and adding the sauce. With only a small second of hesitation, she placed two of the pills on Rahul's burger, hiding them beneath a large glob of tomato ketchup.

He came out of the bathroom with his shirt half-unbuttoned and droplets of water glistening on his skin. When she handed him his meal he smiled like no one had ever fed him before. He finished it in three or four bites, complimenting her skills, though she had only turned the microwave off and on, as she cried silently – feeling her own burger turn to cardboard in her mouth.

Rahul hovered next to her, "Don't cry, Kiran, p…please, don't cry. We'll be happy soon, I know we will."

She only cried harder.

…..

Sunil sighed impatiently as a doctor tended to his head wound. He had been taken to the hospital almost immediately and had found Natasha and the police already there.

Impatiently he had told them his story – leaving out the bit where he had mercilessly thrown Rahul overboard, though he would do it again in a heartbeat – and impressed upon them the urgency of the situation. Though he didn't know what was propelling him more; fear for his wife's safety or the incredible jealous rage that had overtaken him since Rahul's jibes at the apartment. The cops' constant insinuations that perhaps Kiran was a willing participant made him see red.

"Well they didn't get on a plane," Detective Hoffman said, "they hightailed it outta there the minute people got suspicious, stole some poor schmuck's cab."

"_Rahul_ stole it. My wife is being _forced_."

"Like I said…stole a cab, I've got the license but no one's spotted it. Got alerts all up the state. We'll find it."

"Look, I was in the Indian Navy…I have experience with this guy…let me track him down," Sunil spoke as rationally as he could but still earned himself a sceptical look and a snigger.

"You're concussed, ain't he…Doc?"

The Doctor grumbled something.

"What was that?" the detective barked.

"I _said_," the doctor cleared his throat and glared, "If this fella's all that you say he is he's probably crossed the border by now."

…..

She could see the moon through the curtains, bright and full and casting its silver glow as far as it could reach, even in their dark room.

Rahul lay behind her, her back pressed to his chest and his arm encircling her waist and keeping her trapped. It was cold but he was warm and their closeness made her thoughts drift to a place, and a moment, that she wanted to forget.

If she closed her eyes she remembered how he had felt beneath her – inside her - how his hands had gripped her hips, how he had kissed her. If she closed her eyes she saw, and felt, all that, and so she kept them open even as he slept.

He was just a boy…just a boy who had fallen in love with a girl, and she was just a girl who had fallen in love with a man, who had never even looked at anyone her own age because nobody could protect her like Sunil.

She had thought that. She had thought that no one could make her as happy as Sunil, that no one could make her feel as he did…but Rahul, as Raj, had ripped her beliefs apart – had shown her the dizziest heights of love, and, try as she might, she could no longer separate the lover from the tormentor.

She was afraid, but not of him. Not any more.

Though she didn't know when, she knew _why_ he had stopped taking those pills. He had seen that she was falling in love with him and he hadn't wanted to lie. He had wanted her to love him, to love _Rahul_. That was all he had ever wanted.

His madness would end in death. There was no other way to stop it. Could she deny him what he wanted, knowing that? It might take weeks for Sunil or anyone to find them…if she gave in, who would know?

…..

TBC….


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

…..

Dr. Deepak Verma, qualified in adult and child psychology, observed the little boy who sat scrunched up on the chair in from of him – his small frame nearly engulfed by all the black leather. He seemed to be working on making himself as small as possible; his legs were tucked against his chest beneath his shirt and his arms completely hidden in his sleeves. His shoulders were held high so that his collar obscured most of his face. All that Dr Verma could see, beneath the shock of black hair, were two huge, round eyes.

"Rahul," he said coaxingly, intent on drawing the boy out of himself, "why don't you tell me about yourself, hmm? Tell me what your hobbies are. Your father won't interrupt."

He shared an understanding glance with Captain Mehra, who was at his wits end. The man had tragically lost his wife only a year ago and, since then, had been dealing with a disturbed and unusual son with only his servants for help.

Rahul shook his head.

"Come on. What do you like to do, Rahul? What makes you happy?"

"M…m…my…my…my mother. Ma."

"He talks to her all the time, don't you, son?" the Captain interjected.

Rahul's eyes brimmed with tears and Dr Verma glanced warningly in the father's direction.

"How do you speak to her, Rahul?"

"On…on the phone."

"Not in person?"

"No."

Captain Mehra sighed and shifted awkwardly in his chair, checking the clock.

"Why not?" Dr Verma pressed on, "Why can't you talk to her face to face, as we are now?"

"I…I…I don't know."

"He _does_ know," the Captain slammed his hand in the desk in irritation, "Your mother is _dead_, Rahul! I don't know how many times I've had to tell you this. She's never coming back, never, and don't you think that's hard enough for me without you telling all the servants and neighbours that you speak every night, that _nothing_ happened that night…that the car…" he broke off and pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, clearly overcome.

"Mr Mehra, perhaps it might be best if Rahul and I see each other alone. You can wait outside, my secretary will bring you refreshments."

The other man nodded, "You must fix him. I can't handle this anymore."

…...

"Do you blame…or even feel that your father should be held accountable for what happened that night?"

Rahul, twelve years old, glared at him from beneath his thick fringe of hair, "What night?" he asked almost sulkily.

"The night you lost your mother."

"_I haven't lost her! She would never leave me!"_

…_..._

Dr Verma scribbled something down on his notepad and then peered at Rahul over his spectacles. The boy was fifteen now and he was no closer to understanding him than he had been the first day he had met him. He couldn't even say for sure that all the boy's problems stemmed from the loss of his mother - surely there was something deeper, something subconscious or something he had been born with.

He had him on rotating drugs - anything to control his mood-swings and sometimes aggressive outbursts. He hadn't been a danger to anyone else so far, but that didn't matter- he was a danger to himself.

"How's school? Are you looking forward to moving on to college?"

Rahul shrugged.

"Have you made any friends?"

Another silence dragged on, longer than the last.

"Come on, Rahul, you can tell me anything. You know that." Not that he ever had before. Not that the past seven years hadn't just been a waste of both of their time because neither of them were getting anywhere…but Captain Mehra's money was a good enough incentive to keep trying.

…...

"She's perfect. I didn't know anyone real could be like her…she's kind and beautiful and her smile is brighter than the sun…she even smiles at me when the others laugh. The moment I saw her I knew."

"What did you know?"

Rahul smiled beautifically, "I knew she was the one. I'm going to marry her."

"Does she feel the same?" Dr Verma steepled his fingers and furrowed his brow.

"Of course."

"How do you know? Have you spoken to her about how you feel?" He knew Rahul had not. Unless he had altered dramatically in personality beyond what he had already noted - the fact that his patient was speaking in sentences and paragraphs rather than just two or three short words - he couldn't see it being the case.

"I don't need to speak to her to understand what is in her heart. I just look at her and I know: there will never be anyone else."

"What if she's promised to someone else? What if she has a boyfriend or a fiancé?"

Rahul pressed his lips into a thin line and flared his nostrils. The look in his eyes was pure hate and Dr Verma resisted the urge to look away.

"I didn't come here to hear your opinion," he said flatly, "I came to tell you that this is my last appointment," he held up his hand when he saw that the doctor was about to protest, "I'm of age now. You can't force me to be here. I know what will make me happy, I found her all by myself. You can stop stealing my father's money now."

He stood and then ducked his head and smiled, "Thank you for all your effort," he said shyly, seeming like a completely different person.

…...

Some years later Rahul was in his office again - listless, curled in on himself, and defeated. Captain Mehra was again by his son's side. Listening to the Captain's story, Dr Verma studied the young man who would not look back at him.

He was pale, small and alone. He had bandages underneath his shirt and was still visiting hospital on and off for small cosmetic surgeries.

"I recommend inpatient treatment," he said, "but Rahul has to sign himself in."

Getting the signature was easy, Rahul was in no mood to resist them. He seemed utterly devoid of anything, except for when he would lash out- this time deliberately targeting others to hurt, as if they were to blame for his emptiness without Kiran. And Dr Verma would never forget that name, nor the way that Rahul cried it into his pillow at night.

When the drugs began to work it was a miracle.

When Rahul became Raj and managed to live a productive and relatively normal life in America, and genuinely thanked him for his help, it was an even greater miracle.

Dr Verma just hoped that wherever Kiran was, she was nowhere near Rahul. For both their sakes.

…...

"Rahul…" Kiran whispered, shocked by the sudden, wet, feel of tears against the back of her neck. It was past midnight and the motel was a silent, bare wasteland under a moonless sky.

He drew in a shuddering breath, and she thought she heard her name on his lips, but only a choked cry issued forth. His hand, which lay around her waist, gripped her tight as if he were holding on for his very life.

"Rahul…what's the matter?"

"I'm so sorry. Suddenly everything I've done…to you….it's just rushing over me. I can't stop it. I feel like I'm suffocating," his breathing grew shallow and started to quicken.

It was the pills, she realised. They were working! He was thinking clearly! He understood and he might let her go!

"What have I done? I only wanted to be whatever you would let me be, Kiran. I was so grateful just to see you again, just to have you not hate me…even if I had to be someone else. I just wanted…" He was working himself up into a frenzy.

She turned around to face him, so close his tears wet her cheeks. "Sssh!" she hushed him, pressing her fingers to his lips. This wasn't how she had pictured things working out when she had found the pill bottle. She had thought he would change back into Raj and let her go and everything would go back to normal.

She hadn't expected his guilt, his sadness, and her overwhelming desire to _protect_ him.

"I didn't plan it…any of it. I just couldn't help myself."

It was true for her as well. She hadn't planned on falling for Raj, on pursuing him, but she couldn't have stopped herself if she had tried. And she had tried. Why couldn't she be cold to his tears? He had tormented her for so long, why did she care? She couldn't ask herself these questions any more.

"Those pills I've been giving you aren't for headaches," she spoke so quietly she wasn't sure he had heard her, but a second later he grew quiet too. It was so dark that she couldn't see his face or make out an expression and that made it easier to talk to him. "They're yours. I found them in your bag."

"_Kiran_…" he sounded helpless, at a loss. Immediately he cringed away from her.

"No don't," she tried to pull him back, "don't be embarrassed or ashamed. I don't fully understand, but I _want_ to. Rahul…I care about you."

"I've done so many things to you. I…"

"I know what you've done and I know you would let me go now, wouldn't you? If I wanted to leave…"

"I wouldn't stop you," his voice was heavy with resignation, as if he wished he would.

"And that is why I won't. I'm not a terrified little girl anymore, I've had to realise that, I'm a woman and you can't scare me. Nothing you could do would scare me anymore. I'm not going to leave you to die this time."

To prove it, she kissed him. It was a simple, chaste brush of lips but it seemed to open a soundless floodgate within him that drowned out the whole world. The in-between years seemed now to have been only a dream. _Sunil_, she thought, _don't come and find me now_. You'll never forgive me.

…...

"But Papa, I miss you," Priya sobbed into the phone, her child's voice alternating between wails and sad, solemn sentences.

"I know you do, sweetheart, and I will be home soon, but you must be a good girl for Mrs Kapur while I'm away," Sunil closed his eyes and massaged the tension from his brow. He was currently in a Canadian police station with Natasha and Detective Hoffmann, filling the local police in on what was going on.

"Why can't you come back now? I hate it here. I hate Nick," she grew louder, referring to the Kapurs' obnoxious son, "he's so mean. He drew on my doll. I WANT MUMMY!"

"Well that's why I can't come home yet," he explained gently, trying to calm her, "because I have to find mummy."

"Did she get lost?"

He almost laughed, "Yes, Darling, sometimes even adults need someone else to help them find their way back home. But don't you worry, I'll find her soon and we'll be home before you know it, and…"

"And?" she question, drawing little hiccupping breaths as the worst of her tantrum passed.

"And we'll bring lots of lovely presents for our well-behaved little daughter!"

"I need a new doll," she said mournfully but deliberately.

Sunil promised her a doll and a bear and anything else she wanted. Then he spoke to Rhea Kapur and filled her in on what he could bear to tell her. Which was not much at all, as no doubt whatever he did say would be all over the neighbourhood within the next hour or so.

"Well, we have one lead," Hoffmann said after he had hung up, "The cab they stole has been found abandoned…so…"

"That's it?" Sunil snapped, "No one's seen them? She must be terrified…they can't exactly be inconspicuous."

The detective smirked, "Look, to most they're gonna seem like two kids in love doing some holidaying. Unless he's walking around with her trussed up and holding a gun at her back, I doubt anyone's gonna take much notice. The cab is a good lead. We'll ask around where it was found. Look," in an unusual moment of sympathy he awarded Sunil a clap on the arm, "we'll find her."

…...

TBC…


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

…...

The doors were locked and the engine was running but the car was stationary. Kiran sat in the driver's seat, a bag of food resting in the seat beside her. Rahul was back in the motel room sleeping, she hoped. She had asked to go and get the groceries and he had let her without even the slightest protest. Only his eyes had spoken, and they had said _leave me_, _I won't stop you. _

She had already made the decision to stay but it seemed perfunctory to sit here and think about it for at least a moment. She had even picked up the payphone outside the store and held it to her ear, considering calling Sunil, to let him know that she was fine and to apologise, or Priya just to hear her voice and reassure her. But she hadn't, and she wouldn't.

She turned the keys and shut the engine off. The silence was deafening.

Somewhere close by a cell phone rang shrilly and she jumped, agitated, until someone answered it. All morning she had been on autopilot; her body doing what she had to, while her mind travelled far back to the year of her marriage. She had been so in love with Sunil then, so worshipful and tolerant of his every flaw. And he had made her so happy. She thought of the moment he had taken her to see their first new home, and the dream he had painted for her with words less flowery and more realistic than Rahul's. It seemed so long ago, and they were half a world away from that life now.

Rahul had once told her something like she deserved to walk on clouds and live in dreams. Well it was gravel beneath her feet as she got out of the car, and as for dreams…she had no time for them anymore.

…..

Sunil popped open the trunk of the abandoned cab, searching for some sign or trace of his wife, but there was nothing. Just a flattened paper bag and a pair of shoes that were obviously neither Rahul's nor Kiran's. Angrily he slammed it shut and made his way to the front seats where Detective Hoffmann was taking prints and whatever else he did.

An old man, accompanied by two Canadian police officers, walked up the road towards them. Natasha looked up and motioned to Sunil.

"This motel owner says he's seen them." one of the officers announced.

Hoffmann raised his eyebrows, "Name?" he barked.

"Henry Warner…I own the motel back that-a-way," he pointed beyond the fields behind them, "They stayed for one night, a youngish couple - both Indian - like he said, the woman had curly hair - she looked a bit upset- and the man seemed nervous when he paid."

"That's them," Sunil confirmed, as if there was any doubt.

"Did they mention where they were headed?"

"No, he barely said a word, and I never saw her up close." He shrugged away from the officers and puffed up his chest, clearly sure he had fulfilled his duty, "Can I go now? I have a business to run."

"Yeah, thanks a lot," Hoffmann waved him off, "I'll be over in a bit to poke around the room you gave them, so…" he saw the beginnings of a protest, "don't give it out, okay?"

Suddenly his radio buzzed to life, "Hoffman!" he barked into it.

"_We've received a call sir, someone's spotted them entering a motel quite far west of where you are now."_

Sunil's eyes blazed with triumph as the precise details were spoken and taken down. Hoffmann gripped the wheel grimly as they got back in his car, the two officers assigned to assist them following behind. "Here's where the chase really begins," he said.

…...

"You didn't go," Rahul whispered in the dark.

Kiran shook her head, "No."

For a long moment the weight of that question, its answer, and all its implications stretched between them. They had shared a meal together that evening, cooked it together and eaten it together. There had been instances when their hands had brushed as they reached for the same vegetable to chop, or when they had laughed as a carrot went flying and when the onion had made Kiran tear up, or when Rahul had smiled at her so lovingly. There had been instances when, looking at his dimpled smile and warm brown eyes - lit by the sun streaming gold through the blinds - it had almost seemed like they were married and this was their home and it was just any other dinner that they were making. She had been struck by the thought that this was what it could have been, _could be_, like.

If they had married, would they share a flat back in India and cook together? Would it be filled with bookshelves and would she welcome him back home everyday with a kiss?

How could he be so normal one moment and so different the next?

Now they lay together on the bed, above the sheets.

"Kiran," he said.

"Please don't ask me…" she moved her hand and felt his fingers touch hers. It was immediate; the spark of electricity that travelled from him to her. Like that day in his bookshop, like the night they had…

"Once I said that to recognise true love you don't need the eyes to see it but the heart to know it."

"I can't see anything," she said and her voice trembled because she knew what he was saying. Even though it was dark, she closed her eyes and listened to every part of her body. There was her hand, tingling where they touched. And her arm, warm so close to his. Her chest rose and fell with steady, relaxed breaths - she was unafraid - but her heart was beating fast, alive with want and longing and she fancied she could hear his, perfectly in time with hers, but skipping a little every now and then, because that was how he was - irregular and unpredictable.

His fingers began to travel up her arm, teasing her skin with the lightest touch, and her breath hitched. Kiran covered his hand with hers as it reached her shoulder, and turned so that they lay face to face. She touched his hair, feeling how soft it was, and tried to tell him everything without words. The urge to kiss him was strong, almost uncontrollable.

Suddenly his face, eyes hooded and serious, was revealed to her by a bright beam of light.

A pounding knock rattled the door and a voice boomed, "OPEN THE DOOR! THIS IS THE POLICE! IF YOU DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES WE WILL BREAK IT DOWN! THIS IS YOUR ONLY WARNING!"

They sprang to life, both hearing the man shouting her name while the policeman spoke. It was Sunil! They had been found.

Rahul stared at her, helpless. What would they do to him? Send him to jail? Deport him? Kill him? She had no idea and each crazy thought made her more determined to prevent all of them.

"There's a window in the bathroom," she said, grabbing a small bag of both their belongings.

He nodded, dumbstruck, and followed her into the bathroom.

The window opened easily and it was just big enough for them both to squeeze through if they stood on the toilet. Kiran stuck her head out and saw that no one was out there. They had not thought to guard the back of the building. Woodland stretched dark and forbidding beyond a dilapidated fence.

"Come on," she climbed through and jumped down, Rahul quick on her heels. She closed the window behind them and they raced into the cover of the trees and stared back at the motel which was illuminated in the red, blue and white lights of the police cars.

"I'm sorry, Sunil," she whispered, hearing him cry her name.

"We have to move quickly," Rahul held out his hand to take hers, "it won't take them long to figure out where we've gone."

…...

As soon as the officers had kicked the door down, Sunil burst in and switched on the light. Dirty plates were piled on the table and the bed was rumpled as if they had both lain on it. Kiran's jacket hung off the back of a chair and a pair of glasses sat on the bedside table. They had been there.

He touched his hand to the bed sheet and realised it was still warm.

"Detective!" he yelled, seeing Hoffmann walk in the door, "They've only just left!"

Hoffmann noticed the window in the bathroom and nodded, "Round the back, NOW!" he ordered his men. He stopped by Sunil, "Pretty quick on their feet…no signs of a struggle…you may have to consider that your wife might not want to be found. If she's with him willingly…I don't really have a case…and neither do you."

…...

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

(A/N) Sorry for the lag between the last chapter and this one. I seem to have lost my notes (my new notes that is, as I misplaced the first set some time back) for the story, so from here on in I will write what I remember, and what I can't remember I will improvise…or something…so what unfolds will be a surprise even to me : O

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

…...

Sunil paced back and forth across the parking lot of the motel, his eyes never leaving the broad-shouldered figure of Hoffman. The detective was talking with great irritation into his mobile phone, the words 'obvious affair' and 'wild goose chase' sounding loud and clear despite the rumble of the passing cars.

Eventually he hung up and walked abruptly to where Sunil and Natasha were standing.

"Look," he shrugged as if the following excuse hadn't been devised by himself, "I've got other, more urgent cases waiting back in the States, I've been ordered back. I'm sorry to say it, and I know you don't want to hear it, but she's had plenty of chances to escape. I think she's doing exactly what she wants, and I can't arrest a man for stealing another's wife."

"What about assault?" Natasha asked, her nostrils flaring as she gestured to the wound on her head, "You can arrest him for that?"

"Look, from what you've said assault would be hard to prove. In fact, to some people it might seem like you forced your way into Mr Mehra's apartment and attacked him for sleeping with your wife," he held up his hands rather sheepishly as Sunil turned red with rage, "I'm _not_ saying that's what I believe…"

"Fine," Sunil took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. He had done it alone before, hadn't he? There was nowhere on earth that Rahul could run to, nowhere that Sunil would not find him. "I'll find them myself."

Hoffman studied him and then shrugged once more before heading off to his car, He opened the door and then looked back at Natasha, "You need a lift?" he asked.

She shook her head, "No. I'm going to stay until I know Kiran is safe."

Hoffman sighed, "Suit yourself."

…...

Kiran wiped her tears whilst staring into the cracked mirror of the diner's ladies' toilet. They had walked all night and she was exhausted. Every snap of a twig had been the possibility of Sunil being right behind them, and his voice echoed so loudly in her ears that she had turned around several times expecting to see him.

Rahul was waiting for her, ordering them both breakfast. Kiran yanked a brush through her curls and splashed her face with water. As she rifled through the small bag she had managed to grab in her haste a sudden realisation struck her cold.

The pills weren't there. She had left them behind, or dropped them. Either way, they weren't there. She almost laughed as she stared, laid out on the counter, at only her brush, purse, some loose change and a small packet of aspirin. Sweeping them back into the bag, she smiled nervously as the door swung open to admit a tired looking mother and daughter.

When she slid into the booth Rahul looked at her with unreadable eyes, "Did you pick up my…my…"

Kiran bit her lip and nodded. She popped two of the aspirin into her palm below the table, so that he couldn't see, and then placed them down beside his water. It was the first time that he was knowingly taking them from her, only this time they _really_ were just aspirin.

As he swallowed them down she stuck a fork in her pancake and forced herself to eat. She was afraid again, but not of him, and full of guilt.

"I love you, Kiran," he said as the sun painted stripes through the blinds, "but you have to go back."

"Back to Sunil?" indignant tears stung at her eyes.

"Back to your daughter, to your life. You're not mine, Kiran. You never were. I know, I knew it before. Just saying something, someone, belongs to you doesn't make it true."

"I'm yours," she insisted, "I am. I've made my choice. I won't leave you."

He sighed and pressed his lips together, dimples appearing in his cheeks, "Then lets make a deal. One more week. Spend a week with me, just as perfect as the time when I was Raj and not myself. Let's have that and then…"

Kiran felt her stomach twist, "And then?"

"And then…we'll see. I'll make it up to you, everything, I promise. One week."

There was something about the finality of his tone, about the look in his eyes, that she wasn't getting. But there was one thing she was certain of; as long as they were both breathing, he would never leave her.

"Fine," she smiled, playing along, "a week."

The waitress plonked down a pot of tea and then snapped her gum before handing them the bill. The clock on the wall read seven am. There was barely anyone else around, only two families who looked liked they had been driving all night.

"What if Sunil finds us before the week is through?" she asked, "what then?"

Rahul laughed, "He won't."

…...

That night they chose a motel so far off the beaten track that it had taken them over an hour to locate it, even with directions from a passing car. It wasn't rundown, in fact it was the opposite. Walls that would have been white shone silver in in the moonlight. The doors, all painted yellow, had polished brass numbers embellished with little swirls and stars. The carpet was soft and fluffy underfoot and there were tiny mints on the pillows.

Kiran stood under the hot spray of the shower, her head tilted back and her hands kneading the knots in her neck. The shampoo provided smelled of lavender and vanilla and she inhaled it, allowing herself to relax.

For a moment she recalled the long luxurious baths that she and Sunil took together long after Priya had been safely tucked up in bed. She loved placing pretty flowers and candles around the sides and Sunil always managed to knock at least some of them over. She smiled, remembering the time he had set the bath mat on fire and then stood on it to put it out, resulting in a burnt foot.

If Rahul had meant what he said, and she had only one week with him, what would it be like to return home after that? How could anything ever be the same again now that she knew that she loved them both? Now that she felt it too.

When she stepped back into the bedroom, wearing Rahul's shirt, as her clothes dried over the heater, he was staring into space. She coughed gently, but he neither saw nor heard her.

"Rahul?" she crawled onto the bed, careful to keep her legs together, and took his hand, "Rahul?"

She tried not to blush at the fact that he was wearing only jeans. They had no other clothes, not any more. He blinked, his eyes focusing warmly on her face. There were dark shadows below them, she noticed, and the finest of lines. The slightest stubble, flecked with grey, covered his chin. Without hesitation she did what she had wanted to do the previous night, and kissed him.

########

_Kiran tucked her curls behind her ear, pulling a stray hair out of the loop of her earring. Her bangles tinkled as she moved- the soft, sweet breeze, blowing her scarf out like wings behind her back._

"_Kiran!" her friend Anjali exclaimed, running over to her and dragging her to meet an assorted collection of new classmates, "This is Maya - she's originally from Delhi, you know, her cousin Neha was at my sister's wedding, you met her, and this is Anita and Aesha, they're twins you know, and this is Deepak, he's the smartest boy in school…"_

_Kiran nodded and smiled at everyone, listening as intently as she could to the multiple introductions. More students drifted over, one by one, until she was quite literally surrounded. _

_There was only one boy who hung back, lurking underneath the trees. She couldn't see his face, but his shoulders were hunched. _

"_Who's that?" she inquired, pointing discreetly when another boy, who had cockily introduced himself as Prem, tried to answer her._

"_Oh him," he laughed, "That's Rahul. He's shy…or something…"_

"_Or something!" Anita laughed loudly, "last week he was supposed to read his work out loud - we all did - and he couldn't even get through the first word…just 'Th…th…th…th…th…th…' for like 10 minutes until finally Mr Joshi told him to sit down."_

"_It was embarrassing," Aesha joined in. _

_Kiran frowned, gazing at the poor boy with compassion. Her Bhabhi, and her mother before her, had always taught her to be kind to those in need of it, and as she looked at his solitary, small, figure, she couldn't help but feel sad. _

"_Don't bother with him, sweetheart," Prem grinned, "he wouldn't know how to talk to a girl if he was one himself. I, on the other hand, am excellent company."_

"_Don't bother," Anjali giggled, taking Kiran's arm, "she's got a fiance, already - superhero Sunil!"_

_Kiran laughed alongside her and allowed herself to be led away to the female housing so that she could unpack and see her room. On her bed she placed the little toy bear Sunil had won for her a few months before, and on her bedside table she proudly displayed, in a silver frame, a picture of them both smiling brightly - covered in coloured powder after Holi. _

_She was excited to be at school, but she knew that she would miss him every moment they were apart. _

_###########_

_TBC…_


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

#######

"_And you know, her father found the letters. She pretended they were for a class project - but what teacher asks you to write fake love letters, right? But he believed her, she said he complimented her on her writing skills! She gets away with anything…I swear, even if she runs away with Arjun, he will forgive her."_

_Kiran laughed along with the other girls as Anita sighed both in jealousy and disapproval. It was the free study hour and they had taken the time to dawdle, gossiping, to the library, where copies of Filmfare and Stardust lingered beyond the textbooks and tombs. _

"_It's too unfair!" Maya exclaimed, plonking herself down on one of the blue-cushioned sofas. _

"_Sssssh!" the librarian, a spectacle-wearing, serious-looking, uncle, cast them an irritated glance, his finger pressed to his pursed lips. Kiran ducked her head as the girls whispered sorry, still giggling, and then used the momentary lull in conversation to look around._

_A group of boys were gathered around the two solitary computers, obviously entertained by something on the screen. Some final year students had taken over the tables near the windows and were relentlessly poring over their books. Kiran wondered if she would ever have the discipline to learn like that. It seemed enough sometimes to just be pretty and loved._

"_Oh no, there's Rahul," Anita groaned._

"_Where?" Maya whispered as Aesha said quietly, "I think he's sweet."_

_He was sitting alone in the history section, scribbling furiously into a small book. His curved brows were furrowed and he was biting his bottom lip in concentration. Then, suddenly, he glanced up- his brown eyes staring intently at Kiran. _

"_He's looking! Don't look!"_

"_Who's he looking at? I heard he likes one of the girls in our year…"_

"_I heard he…"_

"_Sssh!" Kiran hissed, aware that he could probably hear them. _

"_I dare somebody to go and ask him what he's writing," Anita waggled her eyebrows, her face alight with challenge, "if he answers you with a full sentence in less than two minutes, I'll buy everyone lunch in the village."_

"_I'll do it," Kiran volunteered, intrigued. She stood up, straightening the beaded hem of her kameez, and made her way over to his table._

_He was writing again, and possibly ignoring her approach._

"_Hi Rahul," she said softly, flashing a shy smile. She couldn't quite make it out, but it looked as though he was writing a poem or something. It definitely wasn't class-work. "What are you writing?"_

_He stopped cold and closed the book, resting his arm over it. He looked up at her and then immediately away._

_She tried again, forgetting Anita's challenge and just feeling bad for him, "do you want to come and sit with us? I've never had the chance to get to know you."_

"_I…I don't, I mean…I'm not, I mean…" he sucked in a frustrated breath and pushed back his chair. He stood, his hair falling in his face, "No, thank you," he tried to smile at her, his face getting redder by the second._

_Suddenly the clatter of feet distracted her. Sanjay, the resident school joker, barrelled into the library, four other boys hot on his heels in some kind of chase. He twisted through and around the tables, dodging them, and bumped into Kiran._

"_Sorry!" he yelled, and then, a mischievous grin spreading across his face, he yanked away her dupatta and threw it over the head of the boy closest to catching up with him. Kiran gasped, raising her hand to her collarbone, and then laughed as it was handed respectfully back to her. _

"_Idiot!" she called, looking back at Rahul to see if he was laughing. But his expression was stony and hostile as he glared after Sanjay. Without so much as another stuttered word, he left the library, leaving her gaping open-mouthed after him._

"_Sorry, girls," she said, returning to her seat, "no luck."_

_##########_

"Rahul please," she tugged at the blindfold, "let me see."

He had borrowed a car from the motel's owners, a kindly older couple, and driven her somewhere, though she still had no idea where.

"Just a little bit further," he pleaded, leading her by the hand.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of suspense, she felt him untie the scarf from around her eyes, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he did so. The sun was warm on her skin, even through the slightly chilly breeze. She opened her eyes.

They were in a huge garden of some sort, surrounded by multicoloured flowers and roses, their perfumed scent making her head swim dreamily. She whirled around, taking in more of the lush scenery….blossom trees and trimmed hedgerows.

"Where are we?" she asked, wondering if they had quite literally wondered into one of the dreamscapes he always said she deserved.

He ducked his head, shy now that he saw she was pleased, "The Botanical Gardens," he told her, "I saw a brochure about them in the motel reception and they reminded me of the land around our college…" she remembered the freshly cut grass and pink and purple rhododendron plants, "I thought you might like to see them."

She sighed, breathing in the fresh air, "I do…they're lovely. You were right."

They wandered through the different areas, taking in the herb and vegetable gardens and crossing quaint little bridges that ran over ponds filled with ducks and swans. They soon came across a horse and carriage with a dozing driver, and at Kiran's insistence, Rahul woke him up and paid him to take them round.

Settled against the cushioned carriage seats, Kiran leant back against Rahul and watched the scenery go by. She had wanted to ride one of the similar carriages around central park when he had taken her there, what seemed now like so long ago, but the romance of it had frightened her.

Later, they made their way to the butterfly sanctuary where Kiran strolled in an enchanted daze. Rahul watched and understood as all the butterflies were seemingly drawn to her, landing on her hair and hands and anywhere else they could reach.

"Thank you," she said later that night, as they strolled through one of the fields that surrounded the motel, " I had fun today."

"I'm glad," he said, his face tilted towards the sky. The sun was just going down, the day bleeding into night, and the stars had begun to appear. "I've only ever wanted to make you happy, Kiran."

"Look!" she gasped, pointing to a sudden whoosh of light in the sky.

"A shooting star," he closed his eyes, "make a wish."

"What did you wish for?" she asked a moment later, when the sun was just a fading red flame on the horizon.

"Eternal happiness…" he stared at her with eyes as dark and fathomless as the night sky, "for you."

Were there sirens wailing far away? Was there a life she once had, just waiting breathless for her return? Was there India? Was there America? Was there the World? Surely there was only her, and him, and this night.

Nothing else.

########

Rahul sat silently, watching her sleep. Her chest rose and fell with every even breath. She smiled in her sleep, like a little girl; the same fresh, innocent smile she had worn when he had first seen her.

Certain that she would not wake up, he left the room, stepping out into the cool night air. There was a payphone near the reception and he had a call to make.

########

TBC…...


	16. Chapter 16

(A/N) This story hasn't been abandoned, though it gets harder and harder for me to continue the longer I leave it. So this is probably the penultimate chapter. I hope people are still reading : )

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

...

_Rahul sat underneath a large willow tree, his person – and the guitar in his hands- obscured by the leafy, overhanging branches. Out on the neatly mowed grass, Kiran and her friends lay relaxing in the sun, fanning each other with large fern leaves picked from the grounds. He could hear them laughing and talking, but her voice rang high above the rest to his ears: as sweet as honey and so pure._

_He strummed a little, a tune forming in his head. He watched as a lumbering, oafish figure made his way over to the girls, a dark hairy hand reaching out to tap a flower against Kiran's cheek._

Sunil_. He had heard the name before, had seen him before…had hated him always. _

_How he hated free days – when friends and family could come and visit. Before he had simply hated the fact that he was alone while the others received hugs and greetings and presents from sisters, aunts and fathers, but now he only hated that Sunil, who wasn't fit to walk the ground she trod, always took the chance to intrude upon them; to disrupt Rahul's daydreams with his reality. _

_He hated him, hated his blunt, dumb face, his too-large body and hands, his easy going, entitled manner, and most of all...the fact that Kiran's most special, most beautiful, smiles were reserved only for him._

You're mine, Kiran_, he thought, strumming a few more notes. _

_Suddenly they got up, waving goodbye to the chattering crowd, and strolled away, hand in hand, to wander amongst the rhododendrons and daffodils. They passed close by where Rahul hid and he froze, hoping that he was indistinguishable from the bark he leant against. _

No, Kiran_, he thought as he heard her whisper lovingly into his enemy's ear_, you're mine...whether you agree or not…you're mine.

...

The solitary white candle, embedded in a holder made of twined roses and ivy, lit Kiran's face with a soft, almost ethereal glow that made her eyes shine amber and gold. Though they had no change of clothes she looked stunning enough in her simple shirt and jeans that he did not mourn the lack of a beautiful dress or glittering jewels. Kiran didn't need trinkets of trappings to look like an angel.

They had finished their meal – and the bill would wipe out most of the money they had remaining – and she was now staring over at the dance floor, where a band played for the multitudes of elegantly dressed couples.

He was reminded of the night he had watched her and Sunil dance, cheek to cheek, while he had dreamed of being in his place.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked, smiling and trying not to look as eager as he felt.

She blushed, nodding, "I'm afraid we'll stick out though," she gazed longingly at the sequinned evening dresses and he remembered how she had loved to dress up. If he had more time, he would buy her everything she wanted.

Instead he stood and offered his hand to her, pulling her up and into his arms. They swayed alongside the other couples, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He was just tall enough that it fit perfectly, her eyelashes brushing against the skin of his neck.

Rahul let his hand find the curve of her waist as he closed his eyes, relaxing as he found himself where he had always dreamed of being. There was nothing else now that he desired in life. He had made his decision.

But there was something stirring once again inside him, that pathological need to have her only for himself, forever and ever, no matter the consequences. Why did the world not understand that they were made for each other? Why should he let her go back to Sunil? Why was he just going to let her go?

Rahul clenched his jaw, trying to fight whatever was bubbling up inside him. _Don't destroy it again_, he warned himself, _don't ever make her hate you again. Don't ever make her afraid again. _

...

Sunil kicked his heel against the outside wall of the diner, mulling over the last few hours in his head. Natasha strolled over to him carrying two soft drinks and a bag filled with bagels.

"_Rahul_ phoned them?" she asked sceptically, "and then they phoned you?" He had only told her this information thirty minutes prior and she was still taking it in. So was he, for that matter. "Tell me what he said again."

Sunil reached into the bag and tore a bagel in half, ripping off a chunk with his teeth and gulping it down. "He said that he wants me to meet him at Niagara Falls tomorrow morning. He said he'd hand Kiran over to me if I just wait until that time. He wants no police or…well, no one but me."

"Do you think he's telling the truth?" she asked, sipping her drink.

"I think he's a devious little bastard, that's what I think," he groaned and ran his fingers through his hair, pacing a little, "but what choice do I have? I want her back unharmed and if I can get close enough to them to ensure this then I'll take the chance. Besides, I overpowered him once…it's not impossible."

"But why would he call?" Natasha mused, "It seems so strange. He's come this far only to give up?"

Sunil ignored her questions. Why should he bother to wonder about the reasons a psychopath had for doing what he did? Rahul was beyond his understanding, beyond anyone's understanding. Noticing a small vending machine stocked with maps, Sunil slipped some change in the slot and picked one. It popped out and he opened it over the bonnet of their car. Niagara falls was not far away. They would have to be close by as well, in order to reach the spot in time.

"Come on," he said to Natasha, polishing off another bagel as they got in the car.

...

Kiran awoke with a slow smile, stretching like a cat beneath the slightly scratchy motel blankets. The sun peeked through the curtains, creating a soft shaft of light across the floor. She blinked into it, seeing at first only floating dust particles but then, in the darkness beyond, she noticed Rahul sitting calmly on the chair. His face was strangely blank as he stared at her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, bemused but not afraid.

"Remembering," he answered after a minute and his voice was heavy with something she couldn't understand.

He moved over to her, so quickly that it was as if he hadn't moved at all. Now that he was closer she could see shadows under his eyes and a desperation lurking in the amber depths. Confused, she stroked his cheek with her hand, "What's the matter?" she whispered.

"Nothing," he kissed her palm, "I…I…I love you, that's all. And I have a surprise for you."

"What is it?" she sat up, holding the sheet to her chest.

"Not what," he smiled, his dimples flashing, "but _where."_

"I'll get dressed."

"Wait!" he clung to her hand, turning her back around as she got out of the bed. Then, his face so serious that hers began to echo it, he said, "Today I will as you to do something and I want you to promise to do it for me."

"What?" she began.

"_Promise_ me Kiran, even if I change my mind or try to stop you, _promise _me you will do as I say."

She bit her lip, disturbed by the quavering of his voice, "I promise," she lied.

...

TBC…


	17. Chapter 17

(A/N) I'm sure Niagara Falls in Canada has excellent safety barriers in place and that the area surrounding the falls themselves is nothing like I describe ; )

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

…..

"Hello? Hello? Who is this?"

"Detective…I…I want you to tell Sunil to meet me at Niagara falls three days from now."

"Is this Rahul Mehra?"

"_Only_ he must come. No one else, or…"

"Or what?"

"…"

"Mr Mehra? Are you aware that you are wanted on the grounds of possible abduction and assault? Are you aware that you are a wanted man?"

"…"

"Mr Mehra?"

…

He heard the falls before he saw them: a great roaring cacophony of noise that filled his ears and eliminated the soft buzz of the radio. Sunil pulled into one of the many available parking spaces and turned off the engine. Bracing his arms against the dashboard he surveyed the surrounding area with eagle-eyed determination. Natasha was waiting at a nearby café and, for now, he was alone.

….

"Wait!" Rahul exclaimed, agitated, as they were about to get in the car. He swayed a little in his step, vacillating between the direction of the vehicle and the direction of the payphone. Suddenly he dashed towards the phone and began punching numbers.

"Who are you calling?" Kiran asked, running after him and placing a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"Maa…my mother," he muttered, hanging up the phone and then dialling again. He hadn't even put any money in the slot.

"Rahul," Kiran said with gentle but firm insistence, "your mother is dead, remember? She died when you were a little boy."

Rahul dropped the phone and it hung there uselessly, the wire stretching almost to the ground. He tried to smile but his eyes were those of a frightened child. Kiran felt his forehead, alarmed, and recalled that she had lost the pills.

"Are you…?" she began.

He shook his head to clear it and smiled fully, the sweetness returning to his face. "I forgot, that's all," he said, leading her back to the car, "Sometimes it gets harder to remember."

Once they had sped off he drove with erratic speed, veering this way and that, only managing to slow down at the touch of Kiran's hand.

…..

_Graduation was only a week away and Rahul had already packed his few belongings, eager to be away from the college – if not quite everyone in it. Through his window he spied a solitary strolling figure dressed in yellow. It was Kiran. She was singing to herself and clutching an envelope close to her breast. _

_Most of the students were gathered in the main hall for an impromptu gathering organised by the teachers to celebrate the end of their exams._

_Rahul watched her for only a minute before abandoning what he had been doing and flying down the back staircase to follow her. She was easy to keep in sight – in her bright dress she floated through the trees like a loose beam of sunlight. _

_He followed her over the fence and out to the fields beyond the college grounds. There, on a patch of welcoming grass, she flopped down and lay on her back, opening the letter and holding it high above her head._

_It was probably a love note from Sunil. How he wished he could read what it said. It was easy to see, just from looking at him, that Sunil had not the art to write the delicate yet passionate words that Kiran deserved. _

_Taking his camera out of his blazer pocket, Rahul zoomed in and clicked a picture. It had become necessary, now that they were to be temporarily parted, for him to take as many photos as he could._

_He had toyed with the idea of asking her to pose with him as the other students were so fond of doing – their arms about each other's shoulders and silly grins on their faces – but he had not yet managed it. His presence would only spoil the picture anyway. Kiran needed an entire frame to capture even one quarter of her radiance. He wouldn't dare to dull it. _

_Suddenly the sky turned gray and the clouds burst. Kiran laughed for a moment, letting the raindrops fall on her bare shoulders and hands. Then, concerned that the onslaught would spoil the ink of Sunil's letter, she ran to a nearby shed to take shelter._

_Rahul followed her, the rain beading on his eyelashes. As she began to dry herself he peered through a crack in the wood to watch her, feeling guilty but unable to stop himself. She began to unfasten the ties of her dress and he darted away, his face flushing with heat. He would only see that when she wanted him to. To look without her knowledge was not something a true lover would do._

_Kiran stared at the gap in the wood, her eyes wide and her heart beating fast. She was sure someone had been there._

….

Tired of waiting, Sunil got out of the car and slammed the door shut. A tourist centre stood nearby and he went to pay the price of entry. He was surprised to find that sweat was beading on his brow in anticipation. He was expecting a trick or a trap…there was no way Rahul was just going to hand her over.

The paths and viewing areas surrounding the falls were relatively empty, although he suspected the crowds would show up soon enough. Passing a souvenir stand, he felt the cool mist of water on his face and he was reminded of the spray of the sea that night six years ago, when he and Rahul had fought for Kiran's love.

He walked a little faster, his bad leg acting up. He wasn't as fit as he had been back then and Rahul was nine years younger than him.

These facts weighed heavy in his mind as he kept on. For all his bravado, he could not deny them.

…...

Kiran held Rahul's hand as they walked down the path. The sun was out, but it wasn't warm, and she leant closer to share his heat. He was biting his lower lip, his eyes darting here and there. His hand squeezed hers every so often, as if to check that she was still there.

"Rahul, can't you tell me…what is it?" she pleaded, concerned.

"Remember what I said," he looked nervously away from a family passing them in the opposite direction, "about a week."

"Yes," she stopped walking, making him pause as well, "Rahul," she spoke slowly, "What have you done?"

He giggled nervously, wiping at his forehead and dislodging strands of his thick, black hair. Kiran looked around realising with sudden surprise that they were high up, overlooking what a sign nearby proclaimed to be the 'Horseshoe Falls'. They were close, too close, to the railing, its clean white paint glistening in the sun, and as she peered over she experienced a sickening sense of vertigo.

"Rahul," she cajoled, clutching his hand, "lets move further back." When he didn't seem to hear her she tried again, "Please, Rahul, I'm afraid."

"K…Kiran," he chided, tilting his head as if hearing something other than the deafening roar of the falls – something that she couldn't hear, "don't be afraid. I love you, and I'm not afraid. Not anymore."

"But I am, _Rahul!"_ she tugged at him, but he was as immovable as stone.

His eyes fixed on something in the near distance and he straightened, his shoulders tensing and his mouth settling in a thin line. His hand suddenly squeezed hers back, hard enough to make her wince in pain.

"What?" Kiran twisted around to see what he was seeing and her heart gave a paralysing thump as she saw the figure moving closer and closer to them. Tears welled in her eyes as her body fought between going limp with relief and tight in defence. Seeing him again – the strong, solid fact of him – was like the opening of a floodgate and suddenly everything she had been doing her best not to think about – their life together, their daughter – crashed over her in a tidal wave of reality.

And then Rahul's hand released hers and she was swept away. Wobbling where she stood, she cried out Sunil's name in a strangled sob.

"Go to him, Kiran," Rahul said.

She stared at him, trying to understand. Why were they so close to the edge? Why was Sunil coming closer? Was it a trap? She moved in front of him, acting as a barrier between him and her husband.

"You promised me," Rahul whispered.

"Kiran?" Sunil's voice reached her at last, "Kiran. Are you all right? Has he hurt you?"

"No! I'm fine!" she called back, just as Rahul shouted "I WOULD NEVER HURT HER!"

"Oh sure," Sunil's expression was grim as he stopped just an arms length away, "Stalking her, terrifying her, playing your little games…you've never hurt her at all."

"And you? You neglect her, drag her away from her home country, you have never understood her…"

"Stop it!" Kiran cried, placing a calming hand on Rahul's chest.

Sunil's eyes flicked between them, taking in every detail. "Kiran," he beckoned, his voice softer, "come here."

She hesitated on the verge of hysteria. Where had all the people gone? Why was there no one to help her? She had promised, though. She had promised to do as Rahul asked her, and he had asked her to go to Sunil. Maybe if she did, maybe, somehow, it could all work out.

Stepping forward, she moved only two spaces before her hand was yanked back, jerking her arm at the socket. She stumbled, and tried to pull away.

….

Rahul saw all too clearly the fear and confusion in her wide hazel eyes. He was making her afraid again, he was making her unhappy again, and he didn't want to. Hadn't he brought her here to set her free? So why was he now holding her captive once more? _Ma_, he thought, _what's wrong with me? I know I'm not the man you want me to be._

"RAHUL!" Kiran screamed suddenly, and he realised she had been calling his name for some time, " Rahul, I lost your pills, that's why you're like this again. It's not you…not really. We can get some more, you'll see…" she sobbed, "I was really giving you aspirin. I should have told you." Her voice was high and thin, not at all the way it should be. He stared at the skin of her wrist that he was holding. It was red and…was that blood? Was he digging his nails into her? Hadn't he just said he would never hurt her?

He had wanted to do this with a clear head, but he knew now that was not to be. With a shuddering intake of breath he let her go and she was immediately pulled to Sunil's side. The older man, now in possession of his wife, started forward with the intention to wound, but Kiran stopped him with a sweet plea. _Ah, she loves me,_ Rahul felt a smile spread across his face, _this time she really does. This time I will die, because this time she is mine._

He backed up until he felt the slippery metal of the railing beneath his hands. Without looking away from her, he ducked under and stood right at the edge, his back to the falls. He had chosen this place with care: a second watery grave.

He became aware that Sunil was speaking to him, and not in anger. "Rahul," he said gravely, "I won't hurt you, just come back over here." He was saying it for Kiran's benefit, obviously. _Kiran._

He had to tell her, "K…Kiran…when, when my mother died, I think I died too - for a very long time. My second life began the moment I saw you, with my love for you, and now, finally, it will end with your love. But do one thing for me, if you can. Pretend that I was Raj – that I was always, and only, someone that made you happy."

"But, Rahul…"

"I love you Kiran."

He closed his eyes as the ground disappeared and there was nothing beneath his feet. Peace at last.

…..

"NO! RAHUL!" Kiran broke Sunil's hold and ran forward, hitting the railing with an exhale that turned into another scream. She stretched her arms out as if trying to catch hold of the body that was already gone.

Sunil grabbed hold of her waist and pressed her tight to his chest, not letting go until the pounding of feet across the paving announced the arrival of staff members and police.

"What happened?" an officer asked, "Are you alright?"

"You're too late," Sunil explained, telling them everything that had happened.

Later, when Kiran was sitting safely wrapped in blankets in a police car, he went with the same officer to identify the body. Staring down at Rahul's corpse – most definitely dead – he felt a sudden remorse. It was easy to forget, now that his body was still and battered by the water and rocks, the terror he had been able to invoke and the violence he had been capable of. He was still just a boy, barely even thirty.

"Yes, that's him. Rahul Mehra."

….

EPILOGUE

_I returned home with Sunil and, some days later, we returned by plane to India with Rahul's ashes. Sunil didn't ask me why I had to do this and nor did he ever really ask me about my time spent with the man who had been both my tormentor and my lover, except, of course, to ascertain that I had not been physically harmed. I had expected him to be angry and to resent me, but instead he only did as he had always done, comforted me when I cried and promised to carry me, safe in his arms, every step, for the rest of our lives. _

…..

THE END

(A/N) Ahem, thank you for reading! I am sorry progress has been so slow. I hope readers enjoyed, and please forgive me any mistakes : ) Also, if you are a big DARR fan (like me) and also like Ajay Devgan, I recommend his film Deewangee, as I find it quite similar, and also very good!


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